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We’d Better Keep a Fire Going All Night,” I 
Decided, “to Scare Away the Bears” [Page 229] 




RAVEN PATROL OF 
BOB’S HILL 


BY 

CHARLES PIERCE BURTON 

Author of “ The Boys of Bob’s Hill,” *' The Bob s Cave Boys, 
“ The Bob’s Hill Braves,” “ The Boy Scouts of Bob’s 
Hill,” ” Camp Bob’s Hill.” 


With Illustrations by 
GORDON GRANT 



NEW YORK 


HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 

1917 



Copyright, 1917 

BY 

HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 


Published September, 1917 



/: 


NOV -2 1917 


TH£ QUINN St BOOEN CO. PRESS 
RAHWAY, N. 4. 


© Cl. A 4 7 8 8 9 5 

^ l x 


CHARLES H. NORTON, SCOUTMASTER, 
TROOP 3, AURORA, ILLINOIS, 

BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA, 

IN APPRECIATION OF HIS WORK AMONG BOYS 












- 





















CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Meeting at the Cave 1 

II. An Invisible Message 18 

III. The Silent Three 33 

IV. The Summer Street Gang 46 

V. A Fight at the Basin 60 

VI. Tiger Patrol 73 

VII. Hunting for Gold 90 

VIII. Taking the Oath 108 

IX. At the Seashore n 4 

X. Cap’n Jake and the Sea Serpent . . .127 

XI. Campfire on the Beach *4* 

XII. Bunker Hill I 5 I 

XIII. Signals in Old North Church .... 166 

XIV. “Fire! Fire!” i8 4 

XV. The Battle of Lexington l 99 

XVI. A Mountain Hike 2I 3 

XVII. Midnight Alarms 2 3 2 

XVIII. Two Smokes on East Mountain . . .246 

XIX. Skinny Meets a Bear 261 

XX. “Devil’s Hopper” 2 77 

XXI. The Bandits’ Den 2 97 

XXII. Ravens to the Rescue 3™ 






















. 







. 































ILLUSTRATIONS 


“We’d Better Keep a Fire Going All Night,” I ^ 
Decided, “to Scare Away the Bears” . Frontispiece 

FACING 

PAGE 

I Read the Card and what It Said Almost Took My ^ 
Breath Away 58 

“ You See, Gold Is Heavier than Dirt and Sand ” . 98 ^ 

Map 292 ^ 

Mr. Norton Gave a Low Whistle. “Did You Find 

Those in the Cave?” He Asked 302 



RAVEN PATROL OF BOB’S HILL 

CHAPTER I 


MEETING AT THE CAVE 


■ >HE meetin’ will come to order.” 

1 The members of Raven Patrol, Boy 


Scouts of America, were squatting around in the 
cave, with Skinny, our patrol leader, trying to keep 
us quiet so that he could hold a meeting. 

We knew that there was going to be a meeting 
for the Sign had said so, chalked up on the side of 
our barn, as big as life. There was a circle and in 
the center of the circle was a crow, only it was white 


on account of the chalk. Above the crow were the 
figures 18 and below, io. That is our Sign, only 
sometimes we have a tomahawk in the center when 


we are Indians and sometimes, a coffin when we are 
bandits. The circle means the cave and the 18 and 
io meant that we were to meet at the cave at ten 


o’clock on the eighteenth day of the month. 


2 Meeting at the Cave 

We didn’t feel much like keeping quiet, especially 
Bill Wilson, who can make more noise than any- 
body and puts in a lot of time practising. 

“ I said the meetin’ will come to order, yelled 
Skinny once more, louder than before. 

“ Maybe it will and then again maybe it won’t,” 
growled Bill. 

When Bill said that Skinny drew a hatchet which 
he carried in his belt for a tomahawk and struck it 
against the rocky sides and roof of the cave until 
the sparks flew like everything. After that we were 
quiet except Bill, who kept sort of muttering to 
himself. 

Skinny crawled to the cave entrance, through 
which we could see the water of the brook go danc- 
ing past, making what we think is the sweetest music 
in all the world, unless it is the dinner bell when we 
are hungry. Then he turned and held up one hand. 

“ S-s-st !” he hissed. “ Mum’s the word !” 

We waited while he put out his head and looked 
up and down the ravine. 

“ ’Tis well,” said he, when he had come back 
without finding the enemy. “ Let be what is.” 


Meeting at the Cave 3 

“ We are now holdin’ a meetin’,” he went 
on. “ Are we all here, Mr. Secretary, I mean 
Scribe?” 

He most always forgets and says secretary in- 
stead of scribe because I used to be secretary of the 
Band. It means the same thing, anyhow. 

“ Everybody but me,” I told him. 

The fellows laughed, all but Skinny. He put his 
hand on his tomahawk again and the boys became so 
still you could have heard a clock strike, if there 
had been one. Then he seemed to change his mind 
and stood up with his arms folded like a bandit 
and his head nearly touching the roof of the cave 
in its highest part. 

“ Fellers,” said he, “ we’ve seen the Sign and we 
have obeyed. Is there any business to come before 
the meetin’?” 

He looked around but nobody spoke. We didn’t 
know what the meeting was for. Signs don’t tell 
why ; they only point. 

“ If nobody else has anything to bring up,” he 
went on, looking at me fierce-like, “ I want to say 
a few things about the scribe. He isn’t on to his 


4 Meeting at the Cave 

job; he’s asleep at the switch; he’s balmy in the 

bean.” 

The boys looked at one another and at me, and 
I looked at them, but we didn’t know what to make 
of it. Before I could say anything Skinny began 
again. 

“ The scribe is supposed to write the doin’s of 
the Band, ain’t he? Well, why doesn’t he do it?” 

“ I did,” I told him, “ and you know it just as 
well as I do. Didn’t I tell all about finding the 
cave and licking the Gingham Ground Gang, going 
out West and what we did there, joining the Boy 
Scouts and all that?” 

“ Maybe you did,” he said. “ I ain’t saying that 
you didn’t but there is a lot more that you haven t 
told. You never told what we did when Tom Chapin 
came home from school that time. Say, did you? 

“ You mean about the ” 

“ You know I do. You never told about that. 

“ That wasn’t anything much.” 

“ It ain’t for the secretary to say what is much 
and what isn’t,” said he. “ It is for him to do it. 
That is what a secretary is for, and that is what a 


Meeting at the Cave 5 

scribe is for. And you never told about the ghost 
we saw when we passed the burying ground one 
time up by the old Quaker Meetin’ House and how 
scared Bill Wilson was.” 

“ Aw, I wasn’t half as scared as you were,” Bill 
told him. 

“ Say, did you?” asked Skinny, not paying any 
attention to Bill, who is only assistant patrol leader. 

“ Well,—” I began, but Benny broke in before 
I could get started. 

“ And Pedro never told about that time Skinny 
went to see his girl,” said he, “ and she -” 

The boys set up such a shout at that, Benny 
couldn’t finish and Skinny had to do a lot of pound- 
ing to get them quiet again. 

“ I’ll write that in invisible ink, made of lemon 
juice,” I told them, “ so folks can’t read it.” 

“ Invisible nothin’!” said Skinny. “ I guess a 
feller can go on an errand for his mother if he 
wants to without having it put in the minutes of 
the meetin’. Besides lemon juice is better for drink- 
ing than making invisible ink in the summer time. 

It made me kind of sore to have Skinny talk like 


6 Meeting at the Cave 

that and I was just starting to say something about 
maybe they’d better get another secretary, when 
Hank spoke. 

“ Skinny — I mean Mr. Chairman,” said he, “ we 
all think that Pedro has done first rate at the scribe 
business and that is the reason we want him to tell 
some more. A lot of things have happened that 
he hasn’t told about. I can think of one right now. 
Don’t you remember the time we started a gold mine 
at Peck’s Falls? That wasn’t any fun, eh, Bill? 
O, no; maybe not.” 

Say, I’d forgotten all about that and I don’t see 
how I could, because it was important. 

“ I make a motion,” Hank went on, “ that Pedro 
be told to write up some more doings of the Band, 
and not to forget the gold mine.” 

“ And that if he doesn’t do it,” added Bill, “ we’ll 
put a head on him.” 

That is why I am writing this history. But first 
I shall have to tell you who we are and where we 
live, for if you haven’t read about the other doings 
of the Band you will be wondering about it. 

Some folks say that there isn’t any such place as 


Meeting at the Cave 7 

Bob’s Hill. They don’t know what they are talk- 
ing about. It is right back of our house, so I ought 
to know, I guess. A man named Robert, or Bob, 
Briggs used to own it. He was a brother of Gov- 
ernor Briggs of Massachusetts. That was long ago 
but the hill still is called Bob’s Hill, especially by us 
boys. 

It is up in the northwest corner of Massachu- 
setts near where you can see “ Greylock ” marked 
on the map. Greylock is the highest mountain in 
the state and it looks the best from our village, or 
from Bob’s Hill. The hill is really the beginning 
of it, and Bob’s Hill begins in our garden, as I have 
said before. Park Street runs north and south 
along the foot of the hill, with Benny Wade living 
on the east side of the street and me, John Alex- 
ander Smith, on the west side, nearly opposite. 

Once, when President McKinley came to our town 
on a visit, the soldiers climbed up on Bob’s Hill and 
fired a salute as he drove up Park Street. But that 
was nothing. The fellows do that every Fourth of 
July, at four o’clock in the morning. Folks don’t 
like it very well when we do it but it was all right 


8 Meeting at the Cave 

for the President. We don't understand it and 
Skinny thinks it isn’t patriotic. Skinny is strong 
for our country because one of his ancestors was 
killed at the battle of Bunker Hill. 

Peck’s Falls and our cave are back from Bob’s 
Hill about a mile. You can get there by going 
north on Park Street; then west on the road that 
leads past the burying ground and the old Quaker 
Meeting House as far as the west road. If you 
turn south on that road, after a while you will come 
to a little bridge over a brook. That is Peck’s 
Brook. It is like going around three sides of a 
square. 

But the shortest way is to go up through Black- 
inton’s orchard, straight back from Park Street. 
You first go up the drive until you get to Black- 
inton’s barn; then turn into the orchard, watching 
out for the cow which is sometimes loose there. 
A path sort of winds through the orchard, that 
being a part of Bob’s Hill and steep. Soon you will 
come to a fence, and the rest of the way up it is 
nothing but hill, where you will have to dig the 
soles of your shoes into the ground and climb like 


Meeting at the Cave 9 

sixty until after a while you come out on top, all 
out of breath and glad to rest a minute and look 
around, especially if you never have been there 
before. 

We boys like to sit down on top of the hill and 
talk things over, when we don’t feel like going as 
far as the cave. At such times, right at our feet 
we can see the village, straggling up and down the 
narrow valley and beginning to climb the hills on 
each side. Beyond the village is East Mountain, 
extending in a longe range north and south. It 
isn’t more than a quarter of a mile across from 
where the Greylock range begins at Bob’s Hill to 
where the hills begin sloping up to East Mountain, 
in the Hoosac range. Up and down the narrow 
valley between, we can see from North Adams to 
Cheshire, with Hoosic River broadening out into 
a pond here and there, where it stops to turn the 
wheels of some big mill. 

On the west, Greylock Peak stands head and 
shoulders above the rest of the range, which reaches 
out giant arms north and south. The old mountain 
smiles down on us, maybe with light clouds flitting 


io Meeting at the Cave 

across his face, seeming to say, “ Come on, fellows. 
Hurry along up to the cave. I belong to the Scouts, 
you know.” 

The cave is in Peck’s Falls woods and the woods 
are the beginning of the wooded part of the moun- 
tainside, with green fields sloping up from Bob’s 
Hill, crossed here and there by stone walls. Plunk- 
ett’s woods are just over the brow of Bob’s Hill and 
a little to the south. 

It is fun to have a cave and sit there under- 
ground, with no school or anything to bother. Tom 
Chapin found the cave by falling into it when he 
was looking for berries, and if we hadn’t heard 
him yell, he might be there now, for he wasn’t able 
to get out without help. He was our leader 
then because he could lick any boy in the 
village, yes, or at the Gingham Ground, but he 
went away to school and we elected Skinny cap- 
tain, and afterwards, patrol leader, to take his 
place. 

Sometimes we play that we are Indians; some- 
times, bandits, and sometimes, Boy Scouts, but 
there isn’t very much difference. It is all fun, and 


Meeting at the Cave 1 1 

fun in the woods and fields, which is better than in 
the house, or even our barn. 

Skinny's real name is Gabriel Miller. Every- 
body calls him Skinny because he is so fat, although 
he isn’t nearly as fat as he used to be, on account of 
climbing up and down Bob’s Hill so much. He 
wouldn’t know what you meant if you called him 
Gabriel. But sometimes when we are playing 
bandits at the cave we find a paper with writing on 
it tacked to a tree, signed, “ Gory Gabe, the Bandit 
King.” Then we know that there will be something 
doing right away. 

When Skinny calls himself “ Gory Gabe ” 
— well, look out! That is all I’ve got to say 
about it. 

There are eight fellows in our patrol, Skinny, 
Bill, Hank, Benny, Harry, Wally, Chuck, and the 
scribe, who is myself. The folks call me J6hn and 
sometimes when what they are going to say is very 
important, John Alexander; but the fellows call 
me Pedro. 

Benny is the littlest one in the bunch, being a 
year or two younger than the rest of us, but we 


12 Meeting at the Cave 

don’t care about that. We couldn’t get along with- 
out Benny. He is always right there when we need 
him. Mr. Norton is our Scoutmaster, and the best 
one that ever happened. 

After the meeting was over, we crawled out of 
the cave through a narrow entrance from the water 
side, stepping on some stones in the brook to keep 
from getting our feet wet. When the water is high, 
as sometimes happens in the spring of the year or 
after a big storm, the brook becomes a raging, roar- 
ing torrent, which is fierce to look at and almost fills 
the cave entrance as it races past. 

Then it is hard to get in from the water side, 
although it can be done. It is better, if you have 
your old clothes on, to go up the ravine a little way 
to where there is a pile of brush, looking as if it 
just happened to be there. That brush covers a 
hole, the hole Tom Chapin fell into. You can let 
yourself down into the hole by a rope which we 
have kept there since a big flood almost drowned us 
out. There is room for only two or three boys at 
a time in that hole but there is another hole leading 
from there through the earth and rock into the cave 


Meeting at the Cave 13 

beyond, and if you are not much larger than Skinny 
you can wriggle through. 

When we had come out of the cave, we stood for 
a moment on the edge of the stream looking around. 
Just above was a rocky cliff, almost straight up and 
down, as much as fifty, or maybe seventy-five, feet 
high. It reached solid half across the ravine; then 
broke away below, leaving a great jagged archway 
through which the brook poured. The arch breaks 
off a little short of the opposite slope of the ravine, 
making it almost but not quite a natural bridge, 
high above the water. 

Say, Benny jumped from the end once when a 
tramp — but I told about that in some of the doings 
of the Band. 

We took off our clothes and after splashing 
around a while in a little pool of water, as clear as 
crystal, which had formed after pouring over a sort 
of rocky dam, we made our way up stream, under 
the arch, until we stood, with water almost up to 
our necks, in a larger pool on the other side, right 
at the foot of Peck’s Falls. 

A cliff, a hundred feet high, blocked our way. 


14 Meeting at the Cave 

From the top of it the brook came tumbling down 
with a rush and roar, not in one long drop into the 
pool below but in a lot of little falls, one after 
another, as it foamed down from rock to rock, play- 
ing hide-and-seek with the sunshine, or chasing 
itself like a kitten after its tail. 

Across the pool, opposite, was the rocky arch and 
fifty feet up, or more, we could see a narrow ledge, 
above which the top of the cliff is shaped something 
like a pulpit. This is called Pulpit Rock. A path 
through the woods winds among the trees, the roar 
of the falls growing louder and louder, until it 
comes to the open chasm that is almost bridged by 
Pulpit Rock; then it leads out on the narrow ledge 
to the pulpit part. 

It is great to edge your way out on that narrow 
ledge, feeling dizzy-like and scared, until you stand 
just opposite the falls, leaning back against the 
pulpit and almost holding your breath, while far 
below the water rushes beneath the arch toward our 
cave. 

Suddenly as we stood there splashing water, 
Skinny reached out and grabbed a piece of wood 


Meeting at the Cave 15 

which was being driven around in a big circle by 
the force of the falls, before escaping through the 
archway. 

“ S-s-st !” he hissed, holding it up for us to see. 

It was only a piece of board which had tumbled 
over the cliff with the falls and not much to see, 
so we looked at Skinny, not knowing what he meant. 

He tried to draw his tomahawk, forgetting for a 
second that he had left his clothes on the bank be- 
low the cave. Then he gave a war whoop. Before 
he had finished we all were yelling and whooping, 
Bill Wilson making more noise than anybody. The 
war whoops sounded great in among the rocks of 
the ravine. When we had stopped for breath we 
looked at Skinny to find out what we were yelling 
about. 

“ Ugh !” he exclaimed, jabbering a lot of Indian 
talk. “ Wood cut by paleface. Paleface somewhere 
up in mountain looking for Injun’s cave. Injun 
scalp paleface; no let find cave. Injun braves follow 
big chief.” 

With that he let out another war whoop and, 
yelling for all we were worth, we scrambled down 


1 6 Meeting at the Cave 

the rock-strewn stream until we came to the place 
where we had left our clothes. 

As soon as we had dressed we made our way up 
the east side of the ravine; then around through 
the woods to the top of the falls. From there, 
carrying our shoes and stockings, we splashed and 
climbed up the stream through the woods, until 
finally we came to another waterfall. It was not 
like the other, nor so high, but pretty, just the same, 
as the brook poured in a wide sheet of water from 
a pasture above. 

It was in this pasture that Tom Chapin once tried 
to paralyze a bull by the power of the human eye 
and came near being paralyzed himself. We took 
good care to see that there was no bull around when 
we carefully put our heads above the edge of the 
ravine and looked for the enemy. 

Old Greylock seemed very near but there was 
nothing else in sight except some crows floating 
around in the air and a bunch of cows in the shade 
of some trees, chewing their cuds. 

“ Charge, my braves !” yelled Skinny. “ Paleface 
no good. Get um scalp.” 


17 


Meeting at the Cave 

Whooping and yelling, we charged. 

“ Here, you little rascals, stop chasing those 
cows!” an angry voice shouted, just as we had 
them almost surrounded. 

We could see him coming, a big man, shaking a 
club at us, and it didn't seem best to play Indian 
any more. 

“ It’s most dinner time, anyhow,” said Skinny* 


“ I’ll beat you to the twin stones.” 


CHAPTER II 


AN INVISIBLE MESSAGE 

P ERHAPS you will remember when Tom 
Chapin went away to school, on account of 
some money which we found at a hermit s hut, 
up near the Bellows Pipe. The Bellows Pipe 
is at the south end of a high narrow valley, called 
the Notch, between two ranges of mountains. The 
wind almost always blows there, making it seem 
like a bellows. 

Tom Chapin was the oldest of us boys and he 
was our captain, so we gave him the money, 
especially as the hermit turned out to have been his 
uncle and would have given it to him, anyhow. 
Tom didn’t have any father, and his mother had 
a hard time getting along until that happened. 

“You take most of the money, mother,” Tom 
told her, “ enough to make it easier for you, and 

start me in school somewhere with what is left. An 
18 


An Invisible Message 19 

education is as good as money in the bank; Pedro’s 
father told me so. Maybe I can get to be an engi- 
neer, or something; then you won’t have to do a 
thing all day long but sit around and fold your 
hands.” 

“ I’m afraid I shouldn’t exactly like that,” she 
said. “ I have no desire to be idle. If I can live 
.to see my son take an honorable place among men, 
that will be better than money in the bank to me.” 

So they fixed it that way and Tom went to school. 
He learned a lot, for he is smart. Every vacation 
he gets a job somewhere to help out and so cannot 
do much meeting with the Band. Just the same, we 
always have a great time whenever he comes home. 

There is a big elm tree on Park Street, just inside 
the yard north of Benny Wade’s house. It is a 
whopper, with branches reaching almost across the 
street. Part way up the great trunk is a hole just 
big enough to let our hands go in, with a kind of 
nest inside. That hole is our postoffice. 

One morning, when I was piling wood out near 
our barn, I saw Skinny go down the street toward 
the tree. He didn’t stop or say anything, only 


20 An Invisible Message 

whistled and made some motions with his hands 
which I didn’t understand. But I hustled to get my 
piling done; I knew that something was up. 

Ten minutes later the rest of the Ravens came 
along. I could hear Bill yelling to Skinny when 
they were crossing the bridge. They stopped for 
me and then hurried across the street and down 
to the big tree, where Skinny and Benny were 
waiting. 

“ Let the scribe see if there is a message,” said 
Skinny, when we all had gathered around the tree. 

I started to put my hand into the hole, when he 
hissed like a snake. 

“ Wait,” said he. “ We’re watched.” 

We were, too, because Benny’s mother was peek- 
ing out the front door to see what we were doing. 
In a moment she went in; then Skinny looked up 
the street and Bill looked down, while the others 
gathered close around to keep folks from seeing. 

“ Now.” 

I reached in and felt around until I got hold of a 
paper; then pulled it out and looked at it. The 
paper was blank. There wasn’t a thing on it that 


An Invisible Message 21 

I could see, but I didn’t let on that I couldn’t read 
it. I handed it to Skinny. 

“ Read it out loud, Bill,” said he, passing it on. 

“ O, I don’t want to,” said Bill. “ I can’t read 
after nine o’clock in the morning. Here, Hank, 
you read it.” 

Hank glanced at it and passed it to Benny, and 
so it went around the circle until it came to Skinny 
again. He looked at us sad-like; then folded his 
arms like a bandit. 

“ Bring fire,” he shouted, “ that the Chief may 
read. I have spoken.” 

I put my hand in the hole again and drew out 
a piece of candle which I lighted. Skinny held the 
paper close to the flame, while the others waited, 
gathered close around to keep off the wind. 

Suddenly as we looked we all gave such a shout 
that Mrs. Wade came to the door again; then shook 
her head and went back, as if boys were too much 
for her to understand. Letters were beginning to 
come out in brown on the paper; soon whole words 
formed, and Skinny motioned for me to put the 
candle back. 


22 


An Invisible Message 

“ Fellers,” said he, “ the Tree has given up its 
message. Read, ponder, and mum’s the word.” 

He passed the paper around as before, everybody 
reading. Then when it had come to him again he 
tore it into little pieces and tossed them into the air 
for the wind to scatter. 

“ To the bridge,” he shouted. 

This is what the message said : 

“ At the north end of the bridge, near the west 
sidewalk, is a flat stone. Lift that stone if you dast 
and what you find will be yourn. But let no one 
see what you see. To be seen is to die. Beware!” 

“ Great snakes!” said Bill. “ That is some mes- 
sage, all right, all right. If we find a worm under 
the stone, let’s go fishin’.” 

“ And if it’s a cricket,” put in Benny, “ let’s play 

ball.” 

Skinny didn’t say anything but led the way toward 
the bridge. It didn’t take long for us to get there. 
Hoosic River crosses Park Street a little south of 
our house. First comes the railroad track, then the 
bridge. We found the stone easily but had to wait 


An Invisible Message 23 

quite a while before looking because there were so 
many people on the street. 

Finally, the coast seemed clear and we lifted the 
stone. There was a worm and there was a cricket, 
but there was something else, too, — something which 
made us all gather around close to see. It was a 
letter, addressed to the Band, and it was in Tom’s 
handwriting. 

When I saw what it was I snatched it and ran, 
the whole Band chasing after me, yelling like 
Indians. Down the railroad I went like the wind; 
up a cross road; then into a lane which leads up 
into Plunkett’s woods. 

Through the woods I crashed, with Bill Wilson 
coming after me in big leaps, ahead of the others 
and gaining on me with every jump. Veering 
toward the east and putting on more speed, I soon 
came out of the woods again, ran across an open 
field, tumbled over a fence and in a minute found 
myself on the very tiptop of Bob’s Hill. The 
whole village was spread beneath, looking as if with 
one big jump I could land in our garden but I 
didn’t have time to do any jumping. Bill fell on 


24 An Invisible Message 

me like a thousand of brick and the others, coming 

up, took the letter away. 

We lay there for a few minutes, panting, too 
tired and hot and out of breath to say anything, or 
do anything. All we wanted was to sprawl out on 
the grass and let the cool breeze fan across our 
faces, while great, white clouds came sailing over 
Greylock toward us. Then the letter was handed to 
me, being scribe, and I read it out loud to the 
boys, sitting there on top of Bob’s Hill. The first 
few lines are all I need to put down here. 

“ Dear boys,” Tom wrote. “ I am going home 
next Friday and I want you to pull off some Big 
Doings before I have to commence work. Tell 
Skinny to get busy and think up something. What 
he can’t think of isn’t worth doing, anyhow.” 

Skinny swelled all up over Tom s letter. You 
bet I can think of something,” he told us. “ And 
take it from me, there are going to be big doings 
around Bob’s Hill when the time comes.” 

“ Will it be some ‘ Gory Gabe ’ business, Skinny ?” 
asked Benny. 

“ I don’t know yet. A feller can’t think up some- 


An Invisible Message 25 

thing big all in a minute; but it will be something, 
and don’t you forget it.” 

“ We might meet him with a band of music at 
Maple Grove and march in,” I said. “ I can play 
the jew’s-harp and Bill is great on the mouth organ. 
Benny can drum fine.” 

“ Aw, that’s too tame,” said Bill. “ We want 
something fierce.” 

“ All right,” I told him. “ If you don’t like what 
I say, let’s see you think of something.” 

“ Great snakes!” he shouted, after a minute. 
“ What if we could wreck a train? Only folks 
might not like it very well.” 

“ The Band isn’t to wreck trains, or do things 
like that,” Skinny told him. “ We wouldn’t 
do such a thing. We’re Boy Scouts now. 
What we want is to rescue folks, not to hurt 
’em.” 

“ Well, that’s what I mean. How are you going 
to rescue them unless something happens that makes 
them want to be rescued ? Don’t you remember how 
we stopped the train just in time to save the pas- 
sengers once, after we had rolled a big stone down 


26 An Invisible Message 

Bob’s Hill onto the track? It would be great fun 

to rescue Tom. Say, he’d be surprised. 

But Skinny shook his head. “ That was differ- 
ent,” he said. “ We didn’t mean to wreck the train 
when we started the stone down the hill. Besides, 
my folks came near licking me for it.” 

“ We might have a fire,” put in Benny. “ I 
remember when Skinny set the Methodist church 
on fire. It scared him ’most to death.” 

“What if it did? I guess anybody would have 
been scared. There is a time to be scared and a 
time to be brave. That was one of the scary times. 

“ Blackinton’s barn would make a swell fire,” 
Harry said, “ if it would only catch. Tom would 
like it; but he might get here in the daytime, 
maybe, and a fire looks better at night.” 

“ How about the schoolhouse ?” asked Bill. “ A 
fire like that would look good any old time. Besides, 
that wouldn’t do any harm.” 

“Nixy on the fire,” said Skinny. “If Black- 
inton’s barn, or even the schoolhouse, should get on 
fire, we’d put it out; that’s what we’d do, and maybe 
we’d all get Carnegie hero medals, or something.” 


An Invisible Message 27 

Bill looked disgusted but he didn’t say anything 
more. 

“ I’ll tell you what,” Skinny went on after a little. 
“ Let’s take possession of Bob’s Hill in the name of 
our country. We discovered it, didn’t we? Well, 
when explorers discover a new land they always 
plant their country’s flag there and take possession 
of the land in the name of their king. I read it in 
a book.” 

“ We haven’t any king,” I told him. “We 
wouldn’t have such a thing in this country. 
Besides, it’s too late. We discovered Bob’s Hill 
so long ago I’ve forgotten when it happened. 
There ain’t anything more left for folks to dis- 
cover.” 

“ What of that? We can take possession of it, 
anyhow, in the name of — of ” 

“ Raven Patrol,” said Hank, seeing that Skinny 
was stuck. 

“ No — the people. We’ll take possession of it in 
the name of the people. Betcher life the people rule 
in this country instead of any king.” 

“ I thought that the president ruled.” 


28 An Invisible Message 

“ The people hire a president to run things for 
them. Teacher told me so.” 

“ We might play that we had a king,” said Benny. 
“ It sounds better to take possession in the name of 
somebody.” 

“ Who, us? The Band? Raven Patrol play we 
had a king? Benny Wade, you could be hung for 
that. You 'most ought to be put out of the Band. 
That’s treason; that is. I guess the Minute Men 
didn’t say anything like that when they stood behind 
a fence on Bunker Hill, waiting to see the whites of 
the enemy’s eyes.” 

“ I didn’t mean any harm; honest, I didn’t, 
Skinny,” Benny told him. He didn’t, either. 
Benny wouldn’t do any treason business. “ Bunker 
Hill is different. I wouldn’t have a real king 
any more than you would — not if George Wash- 
ington stood right there on that stone and told 
me to.” 

“ You’d better not, if you know when you are 
well off. You wouldn’t get a chance. George 
Washington wouldn’t tell you such a thing as that. 
He hadn’t any use for kings. George Washington 


An Invisible Message 29 

could lick any king that walked on two legs; yes, 
with one hand tied behind his back.” 

That settled the king business. Skinny never 
would stand for anything like that. 

When Tom’s train came in from Pittsfield we 
were all on hand to meet it. Skinny had his rope 
along and we couldn’t think at first what he was 
going to do with it. 

“ I am going to lasso him,” he told us, when we 
asked. “ You be ready to surround him the minute 
he gets off and we’ll march him through town. I 
guess he’ll know the Band is on earth.” 

We set up a cheering as the train slowed down 
at the station and we saw Tom on the platform, 
waving at us. 

“ Ready, fellers,” said Skinny. “ Now !” he 
yelled, and threw the rope. 

If the train hadn’t backed up a little just then, 
that would have been the best throw Skinny ever 
made. The loop circled through the air, knocked 
Tom’s hat off, then dropped over the head and 
shoulders of a Gingham Ground lady who was 
waiting to get on the train. It was great, only the 


30 An Invisible Message 

Band didn’t wait to see. As she gave an awful yell, 
Skinny dropped his end of the rope and slipped 
through the depot like a flash, we chasing after. 
It didn’t seem best to stay around. 

Tom caught up with us at Park Street and we 
surrounded him there. After we had talked for a 
few minutes we started up the street, shouting and 
cheering, Bill Wilson making more noise than any- 
body. 

“ Believe me, it sounds good to hear you fellows 
again,” said Tom, laughing; he was so happy; but 
what is the matter with Bill? He isn’t making any 
noise. Are you sick, Bill?” 

Bill had just opened his mouth to yell for the 
third time, “ What’s the matter with Tom Chapin? 
He’s all right.” He stood there a second with his 
mouth open; then closed it; took a long breath, and 
began. Say, the woman that Skinny lassoed wasn’t 
in it with Bill. It was awful, and all up and down 
the street folks came running out of the stores. 

“ Gee, Bill, now you’ve done it,” said Skinny. 
“ Can’t you see we are standing in front of the mar- 
shal’s office?” 


An Invisible Message 31 

Just then the door opened and the marshal came 
running out. As Skinny said, there is a time to be 
scared and a time to be brave; but we didn’t have 
any chance to think about it or to run. He looked 
us over for a minute and his eyes seemed to twinkle 
when he saw who it was. 

“ I don’t like to interfere with Young America 
unnecessarily,” said he, finally, “ but don’t you think 
you’d better save some of that noise for the Fourth 
of July and give folks a chance to hear themselves 
think and to get rested up?” 

We looked at Skinny to see how he felt about it 
because it won’t do to fool with the marshal when 
he has his uniform on. I saw him sort of smiling 
to himself as if he was thinking of when we made 
them ring the fire bell at four o’clock one Fourth of 
July morning. 

“ In the name of the people of the United States 
and of the late lamented George Washington,” he 
went on, “ I command you to disperse and to reas- 
semble immediately at Howland’s drug store where, 
in order that peace may be maintained, you will be 
served with ice cream soda at my expense.” 


32 An Invisible Message 

That ended the parade for we were too busy at 
the drug store during the next ten minutes to think 
of anything else. 

“ Now, remember, fellers,” Skinny told us, while 
the marshal was paying for the soda, “ don’t wait 
for any Sign but meet at the big tree at ten o’clock 
to-morrow, ready for business.” 

“ Shall I bring my drum?” Benny whispered. 
“ ’Cause why; maybe if we make noise enough the 
marshal will buy us some more soda water.” 

“ Betcher life bring your drum, and bring your 
flag. There is going to be something doing to- 
morrow. 

“And, Benny,” he added, “you live nearest. 
Sneak back around to the depot and see if you can 
find my rope. That’s a good feller.” 


CHAPTER III 


THE SILENT THREE 

I T is easier for some folks to think than it is 
for others; anyhow, it seems that way. Being 
scribe, I tried my best to think of some big 
thing to do for Tom, and all that I could think of 
was to go trout fishing in one of the brooks on the 
other side of the mountain and to go swimming up 
in the Basin. 

With Skinny it is different. He can think of more 
things in five minutes than we can do in all day and, 
as Tom said, what he can’t think of isn’t worth 
doing. He thought of a dozen other things but he 
was bound to take possession of Bob’s Hill for the 
first one, although that didn’t seem much to me, and 
to plant Old Glory there. 

“ What’s the use?” I told him. “ Bob’s Hill 
already belongs to somebody or other; Mr. Plunkett, 
maybe.” 


33 


34 


The Silent Three 


“ Belongs to nothin’ ! We discovered it, I guess. 
We put it on the map, didn’t we? Nobody ever 
heard of Bob’s Hill until you told about the doings 
of the Band.” 

We didn’t need any Sign for the meeting next 
day. I was out in the back yard, hurrying to get a 
lot of wood piled before ten o’clock, when I saw the 
marshal stop at our gate to speak to my father. They 
looked my way once when they were talking and 
sort of laughed but it didn’t worry me any. I knew 
that I hadn’t been doing anything. The police can’t 
do a thing to you if you are straight. Then he 
crossed the street and went down toward the big 
tree. He hadn’t been out of my sight more than 
two minutes when he came back again, walking fast 
as if he had forgotten something. 

By that time it was almost ten o’clock and I 
started for Benny’s on a run. I could see some of 
the other boys coming down the street, and over 
across the bridge, not in sight yet, I could hear Bill 
Wilson. Skinny and Tom were the last to come. 

“ Have you looked for a message?” asked Skinny, 
when we all had gathered around. “ There ain’t 


The Silent Three 


35 


any but you always have to look. That is the 
way bandits do, even when they know there isn’t 
any.” 

“ I thought we were going to be explorers/’ I 
told him. 

“ What’s the difference ? Besides, explorers can 
look for messages, can’t they, just as well as 
bandits ?” 

“ Not much they can’t, when they are discover- 
ing a new country where there ain’t any folks to 
write messages, and that’s what we are doing.” 

“ Well, I am going to look, anyhow.” 

He glanced up and down the street to make sure 
that nobody could see; then put his hand through 
the hole in the tree and felt around. A surprised 
look came over his face and he pulled out a mes- 
sage. It wasn’t written in invisible ink, either, for 
on the outside in big letters we could see the words, 
“ Gory Gabe, the Bandit King.” 

When Skinny found that message where he hadn’t 
expected anything, he was almost paralyzed at first 
and stood staring at it with his mouth open. Then 
he turned to us. 


36 


The Silent Three 


“ You fellers think you are smart, don’t you? I 
know who did it. You can’t fool me.” 

But he knew more than we did. We were just 
as surprised as Skinny was. Not one of us knew 
anything about that letter and we told him so. He 
believed us at last and was more surprised than 
ever. 

“ Who did write it, then ? ” 

“ Read it,” said Bill. “ Maybe it will tell.” 

Without a word Skinny tore it open and read, his 
eyes growing bigger every second. Then he handed 
it to Bill, who kept it so long that I snatched it out 
of his hand. This is what the letter said : 

“ Gory Gabe, the Bandit King : 

“ BEWARE ! We are on to your little game. 

Draw back ere it’s too late, or Prepare to DIE. 

“ THE SILENT THREE.” 

At the bottom, drawn with ink, was a big, black 
hand. 

“ Fellers,” said Skinny, solemnly, when we all 
had looked and stood staring at one another, won- 
dering what it meant, “ we are up against the real 


The Silent Three 37 

thing this time, and no mistake. It’s the Black 
Hand and they are going to kidnap us. The Black 
Hand is the worst thing in the world. Maybe we 
hadn’t better do it.” 

“ What is the Black Hand, anyhow ?” I asked. 

“ Why — er — it’s the Black Hand, that’s all. It’s 
worse than ghosts, almost. It kidnaps folks and 
sticks red hot needles into them and then kills them 
unless their friends pay a lot of money.” 

“ Aw, what are you afraid of?” said Bill. “ Some 
one is trying to fool us.” 

“ Fool nothin’ ! The Black Hand never fools.” 

“ Maybe there is some more to it,” said Tom, 
“ written in invisible ink.” 

“ Bring fire,” shouted Skinny. 

I pulled out the candle and, after lighting it, held 
both sides of the paper up to the heat but no more 
writing came out. 

“ I’ll tell you what let’s do,” said Skinny, finally. 
“ We’ll not go straight up to Bob’s Hill. Whoever 
it is, will be watching us. It wouldn’t be discovering 
anything to go straight to it, anyhow. We must 
happen to find it, just like Balboa happened to find 


38 The Silent Three 

the Pacific Ocean when he climbed a hill and looked 
around, and LaSalle climbed up on Starved Rock, 
out in Illinois, and took possession of everything 
in sight.” 

That is why Raven Patrol — eight boys, not 
counting Tom Chapin — instead of going straight 
back through Blackinton’s orchard, first marched 
north almost to the Gingham Ground. Then, when 
no one was looking, we turned into a little path that 
led up through the woods — the one Bill Wilson took 
when he was lost on Greylock that time, with a 
sprained ankle, and we found him by his smoke 
signals. 

After a while we came out on the west road, then 
turned south again and marched along until we 
were opposite Peck’s Falls and the cave. By that 
time we had forgotten all about the Black Hand. 

“ Fellers,” shouted Skinny, waving a stick and 
pointing toward the east, “ methinks yonder is a 
fair land, flowing with milk and honey. Let’s dis- 
cover it.” 

“ There’s a lot of milkweed in the pasture,” Bill 
told him, “ but there ain’t any honey unless we can 


The Silent Three 


39 

find a bumblebees’ nest in the ground, which if we 
do we’ll do the flowing, believe me.” 

Skinny didn’t say a word until we had come to 
the next stone wall and had climbed to the top, and 
he didn’t say anything then, only pointed. Some 
cows were standing there in the pasture looking at 
us, all but one, who was trying to knock a bee off 
her left ear with one of her hind feet. 

“ What did I tell you about the milk and honey ?” 
said he, when we had looked. 

“ ’Tain’t flowing, anyhow,” grumbled Bill. 

“Ain’t it? Charge, my braves,” shouted Skinny. 
“ Watch for the whites of their eyes and give ’em 
Bunker Hill; but spare the women and children.” 

We charged with a yell. There was a sound of 
scampering hoofs, as the milk and honey “ flowed ” 
to the other end of the pasture, and in less time than 
it takes to tell it we were climbing the opposite wall. 

Then we formed in line with Benny and his drum 
in front, followed by the scribe carrying the flag. 
The other boys marched after us, keeping step to 
the drum, except Skinny. He hustled back and 
forth in every direction, looking for the enemy. 


40 The Silent Three 

When we had reached the twin stones, we gave 
him a boost to the top of the biggest one and waited 
while he stood there with his hands doubled up like 
a field glass, spying out the country. 

He looked west to where Greylock lifted his head 
into the blue of the sky. He looked north and saw 
the old Quaker Meeting House, standing like a 
sentinel in one corner of the cemetery. He turned 
to the south and gazed long into Plunkett’s woods, 
dark and cool and, maybe, full of Indians. Finally, 
he turned and looked east to where we knew Bob’s 
Hill was, although it didn’t seem like a hill because 
we were on the high side. 

“ ’Tis well,” said he, climbing down. “ Forward, 
and mum’s the word.” 

Without making a sound, we crept forward and 
soon came to a fence, beyond which was what looked 
like a little hill, maybe twenty feet high. Up the 
slope we charged, Skinny and Bill leading the way. 

At the top we stopped running and stopped yell- 
ing for right at our feet, far below, were the village 
and the busy valley, reaching for miles up and down 
Hoosic River. We were at the very top of Bob’s 


The Silent Three 


4i 

Hill. The air was so clear that we could see all the 
way to North Adams and pick out the spot on 
the east mountain range where Hoosac Tunnel 
begins. 

In the woods above the east end of the tunnel, 
ten miles away, we knew that a mountain stream 
was pouring over some twin falls, hurrying to join 
Deerfield river. Across from where we stood, on 
the opposite side of the village, in a grove of trees 
which reached from there up the mountainside, was 
the Basin, where we go swimming — the big boys 
in the Big Basin and the little boys in the little one, 
only the big one is littler than the little one but 
deeper. 

It all looked good to the Band and we stood there 
several minutes, thinking that, maybe, we’d go 
swimming pretty soon. Then Skinny drew us up 
in line. 

“ Fellers,” said he, “ my brave men, we’ve come 
to the end of our journey. This hill is a new land, 
the one we’ve been looking for. Let’s take posses- 
sion of it in the name of our country, the United 
States of America, the greatest and best country in 


The Silent Three 


42 

all the world. But first we must drive off the 
Indians. Follow me.” 

He dropped to his hands and knees and began to 
crawl along the brow of the hill, careful not to make 
any noise except that once in a while he would 
stand up and strike right and left with his stick. 
This was when he had found some of the enemy. 

“ Injuns !” yelled Bill, springing to his feet and 
whacking away with his stick. 

We all did the same, and part of the time crawl- 
ing without a sound and part of the time yelling 
and fighting like sixty, we made our way along the 
slope; then crossed over the top, and back on the 
other side, stopping finally at the very highest point 
on the hill. 

“ Fellers,” cried Skinny, “ we have driven off the 
enemy after terrific slaughter. This land is ourn. 
Sergeant, bring the flag.” 

I was looking around to find out who was 
sergeant but when I heard the word, “ flag,” I knew 
he meant me. So I stepped forward and stood 
there. 

“ Does anybody know what day this is?” 


The Silent Three 


43 

“ Saturday,” said two or three of the boys at the 
same time. 

“ Yes, but what day of the month?” 

“ June 14,” I told him. 

“And what is June 14?” 

“ The anniversary of the battle of Bunker Hill,” 
cried Benny. 

“No, Benny,” Tom said. “That was on the 
17th; don’t you remember?” 

“ Flag day,” yelled Bill, so loud that I could see 
my mother come to the back door of our house and 
look up, as if wondering what was going on. 

“ You bet it’s flag day and the President told us 
to celebrate it. That’s why I wanted to discover 
this country to-day instead of going fishing.” 

“ They had all kinds of flags,” he went on, “ at 
the start of the Revolution. I read it in a book. 
Every man who raised a regiment had a flag of his 
own. Some had rattlesnake flags, like we made 
once, with the words, ‘ Don’t tread on me. 

“Hurray!” yelled Bill. “ That s the stuff. 
Betcher life, they hadn’t better tread on the Band, 


either.” 


44 


The Silent Three 


“ In 1776 Washington had a flag with thirteen 
red and white stripes and the British union jack 
in the corner instead of stars. Then in 1 777> J une 
14 — this is the day — Congress said what the flag 
should be, thirteen red and white stripes for the 
thirteen states and thirteen stars for the union. 
Since then we have added a star for every new state 
until there ain’t room for many more.” 

Raven Patrol thinks that some day when he has 
grown up Skinny will be a great orator and, maybe, 
president of the United States. It made us feel 
proud as he stood there, speaking and pointing to 
the flag. 

When he had finished, he took off his hat and we 
all did the same. Then he grabbed the flag out of 
my hand and pushed the stick down into the top 
of a rotten stump on the highest part of the hill. It 
stood up straight and fine, and as the stripes floated 
out in the breeze we gathered around and cheered. 

Then Skinny held up one hand for us to be quiet. 

“ Fellers,” said he, “ we have discovered a new 
land, which we’ll call Bob’s Hill, and now we take 


The Silent Three 45 

“ Stop !” cried a loud voice back of us. " Hold 
up your hands.” 

We looked around, scared and surprised. There 
stood “ The Silent Three,” with black masks on 
their faces, black gloves on their hands and point- 
ing revolvers. 


CHAPTER IV 


THE SUMMER STREET GANG 

M AYBE you never stood on a hill, with your 
legs trembling and your heart thumping, 
while the Black Hand were pointing revolvers at 
you which looked as big as barrels. If you never 
did, you don’t know how we felt or what you would 
have done in our place. 

We were so scared at first that we backed a little 
way down the slippery hillside, they following after, 
before they could stop us. Then we braced our- 
selves and stood there with our hands above our 
heads. 

I looked at Skinny, he being captain and patrol 
leader, and he looked at Tom, who ’most always 
knows what to do. Skinny was wetting his lips 
with his tongue and swallowing hard, like he always 
does when he is scared, and even Tom was fright- 
ened. It was easy to see that. 


47 


The Summer Street Gang 

Just then I saw the muscles set in Tom’s face, 
as they did that time when he started over the cliff 
on Greylock after Benny. He whispered something 
which made Skinny stare at him with wide-open 
eyes; then he turned to Bill, who stood on the other 
side, and whispered to him. 

“ Great snakes!” I heard Bill say under his 
breath, “ I wish I hadn’t come.” 

I was just wondering what it was Tom had 
told him, when one of the men spoke in a gruff 
voice. 

“ We’ll teach you bandits to let our hill alone and 
not to take possession of any new lands around here. 
You might as well look down at your homes for the 
last time; you may never see them again.” 

We didn’t do it, though; we were too much sur- 
prised at what Tom was doing. As he stood there, 
braced, with his arms held above his head, he began 
to motion with his hands for somebody to go back, 
trying to do it so the men wouldn’t notice. I looked 
to see who was coming over the hill and there 
wasn’t anybody. 

“ He’s gone crazy,” I thought, and my heart 


48 The Summer Street Gang 

sank, for we were depending on Tom to get us out 
of the scrape. 

Then the men caught him doing it and turned 
their heads to see who was back of them. It was 
only for a second but in that second Tom, Skinny, 
and Bill sprang for their legs, like sliding for home 
base, with two men out and two strikes. 

In another second “ The Silent Three,” silent no 
longer, were sprawling on the slippery hillside and 
while they struggled to get their footing again the 
Band jumped, rolled, and tumbled to the bottom of 
the hill and down through the orchard, expecting 
every second the shooting would begin. 

Bill gave one horrible yell as we started. After 
that nobody said anything until, without waiting 
to go down Blackinton’s driveway, we jumped over 
the wall, into our garden and crashed through the 
back door into our house. Once inside, we felt safe 
and began to breathe again and to cool our faces 
at the kitchen faucet. 

We all felt pretty chesty about getting away from 
the Black Hand, but, after all, it wasn’t much to do. 
It isn’t easy to stand on the steep slope, the grass 


49 


The Summer Street Gang 

being very slippery, even when three husky boys 
are not diving at your legs. But it was a great deal, 
it seemed to me, to think of doing it and to dare to 
do it, and I told Tom so. 

“ It wasn’t much,” he said. “ We had to do some- 
thing and that was the only thing I could think of. 
I was afraid they wouldn’t turn around to look. If 
they hadn’t, I don’t know where we’d be now.” 

“ Great snakes !” cried Bill. “ They will not for- 
get us soon. Didn’t I tell you they’d better not tread 
on the Band ? ” 

“ Betcher life!” said Skinny. “ Say, did you see 
me grab that big feller? He was the biggest one of 
the lot; he was as big as your father, Pedro. There 
wasn’t anything to it after I’d got hold of him. It 
was lucky for them that I didn’t have my rope. I 
could have lassoed the whole bunch and taken them 
to jail. You never ought to go out without a rope.” 

“ Where is pa ?” I asked, when my mother came 
hurrying in to see what had broken loose in the 
kitchen. 

“ I don’t know,” said she. “ The marshal came 
in about half an hour ago and he and Mr. Phillips 


The Summer Street Gang 

and your father went off somewhere together. I 
can’t imagine what on earth they are up to. They 
wore black gloves and seemed very much pleased 
about something.” 

When she said that we saw it all in a minute. 
The marshal and my father had been playing a joke 
on us. Tom gave a sheepish grin and looked at 
Skinny; then at Bill. 

“ I guess we’d better hurry home, fellers,” said 
Skinny. “ It’s most dinner time.” 

“ If I wasn’t afraid it would spoil your dinner,” 
said mother, as they were leaving, “ I’d give each 
of you a doughnut.” 

“ Guess what, Mrs. Smith,” Benny told her. 
“ Your doughnuts couldn’t spoil anybody’s dinner. 
They always taste like more.” 

When the boys went away I noticed that Benny 
had two. Father came in to dinner soon afterward 
and was smiling to himself all through the meal 
but he wouldn’t say where he had been or what he 
was laughing at. Anyhow, that was the last we ever 
heard from the Black Hand and we never found any 
more messages from “ The Silent Three.” 




The Summer Street Gang 

“ The next thing on the program,” said Skinny, 
when the Band had come together again about four 
o’clock, “ is to go swimming. Shall we go up to 
the cave and duck under Peck’s Falls, or shall we 
go up to the Basin? We’ll leave it to Tom. 

“ The Basin for swimming, every time,” he said. 

The boys wanted the scribe to draw a picture 
of the Basin and if I was better on the draw I’d 
do it. But after all, no matter how good it is, a 
picture isn’t water, so clear that the tiniest pebble 
can be seen on the bottom of the pool and little trout 
swimming around; it isn’t the music of Tophet 
brook, as it tumbles over the ledge into the Big 
Basin and then spills out at one end between rocks 
into the Little Basin below; it isn’t the cool shadows 
of the ravine in summer time, where sunshine never 
strikes except when the sun is right overhead; or 
ferns and vines growing on the rocks and waving 
in the breeze; it isn’t the boys you know best and 
like best, jumping and splashing and diving and 
having the time of their lives, with no school to 
bother and the garden all hoed and the woodbox 
filled; it isn’t anything, only just a picture. 


52 The Summer Street Gang 

Say, give the Band the real thing; that’s all. 
We’ll do the rest. And we did, for when Skinny 
said swimming, holding up two fingers, it didn’t 
take us long to start. 

We live, as I have said* in a narrow valley, lying 
between Greylock range of mountains on the west 
and the Hoosac range on the east. Leading up to 
each range — that is, the woodsy part — are hills, 
which almost come together at the bottom. They 
are so near together that the houses of our village 
have begun to climb up on each side and only Park 
Street, and maybe one or two others, are on level 
ground. 

When you go up to the Basin from Park Street, 
you first have to cross the mill race and the river, 
which is not deep enough to swim in except near 
some dam. Then go on up past Summer Street 
but you’d better be careful that the Summer Street 
Gang doesn’t get you. Beyond are pastures on the 
hillside and after a while you come to a sort of 
woods, with nothing anywhere around that looks 
like water or swimming. 

But if you know the way, and you’d better believe 


The Summer Street Gang 53 

the Band does, you edge and straddle around a cer- 
tain tree and rock, careful not to fall for it is a long 
way down to the bottom, and find yourself in a 
narrow, steep path, along the side of a ravine. It 
isn’t an easy path to walk in because it goes down 
fast and there are rocks to climb around, but you 
soon get to the bottom. 

Tophet brook comes down from the mountainside 
through this gulch. It must have been a big stream 
once and it is now in the spring time. Mr. Norton 
says that the great gash in the hill was cut away by 
the water. That was long ages ago, before there 
were any boys to go swimming. The path comes 
out on a rocky floor, sloping gently up to the brim 
of the Big Basin, which is a deep pool of clear 
water. 

Into this basin-like pool water pours from another 
rocky floor, four or five feet higher, which slopes 
down and is slippery, with several inches of water 
flowing over it and moss growing here and there. 
On each side, the rocky walls of the gulch go up 
almost straight, maybe a hundred feet, or more. 

The Basin is too small to do much swimming in, 


54 The Summer Street Gang 

like you can in big rivers and lakes, but it is great 
for diving and jumping. We were having all kinds 
of fun, splashing around, with nobody there but 
ourselves except some little fellows in the Little 
Basin, who didn’t count. Skinny was standing on 
the slippery rock above the Big Basin, ready to 
jump. 

“ Watch me, fellers,” he yelled. “Watch the 
human fish in his great diving act, called ‘ now you 
see him and now you don’t.’ ” 

We all looked while he put his hands up over his 
head and made ready to dive head first into the 
pool below. Then, as he stood there, poised, all of 
a sudden a stone from somewhere above struck in 
the shallow water beside him; then, another, and 
another. 

Skinny tried to stop himself and look to see who 
was doing it but his feet slipped out from under him 
and down he went, kerflop, five feet into the pool. 
He struck the water on his back, kicking with his 
legs and hitting out with his hands, looking too 
funny for anything and so mad he could only 
sputter. As he went under with a big splash and 


The Summer Street Gang 55 
gurgle we heard a shout from the top of the ravine 
above. 

“ Chaw, chaw raw beef ! Chaw, chaw raw beef !” 

We knew what that meant. The Summer Street 
Gang had slipped down the path when we were not 
looking and tied knots in our shirts. It would take 
a lot of chewing with our teeth to get the knots 
loose if they had done the job well. 

“ We’ll raw beef you when we catch you,” yelled 
Skinny, as soon as he could get the water out of 
his mouth. 

We made a rush for the bushes, behind which we 
had left our clothes. They certainly had done a 
good job, wetting the sleeves and pulling the knots 
so tight that we knew it would take half an hour or 
more to get them loose. 

“ Benny,” said Tom, “ watch our clothes, that’s 
a good fellow. We are going after that Gang, shirts 
or no shirts. Come on, boys.” 

“ And when we catch them,” added Bill, “ it is 
going to be our busy day.” 

We slipped into our trousers as quickly as we 
could and started up the path on a run. It wasn’t 


56 The Summer Street Gang 

any use; when we had come out on top there was 
no one in sight. 

“ Chaw, chaw raw beef ! Chaw, chaw raw beef !” 
came floating through the air again from far away 
toward Summer Street. 

“ We can’t go down there without shirts on,” 
said Skinny, “ and if we did they would hide in 
some house. They dassn’t stand up and fight. But 
we’ll lay for them and what we’ll do when we catch 
them will be a-plenty. Believe me !” 

“ Guess what,” said Benny, when we had climbed 
down to the Basin again. “ We might as well go 
swimming some more. I’ve put the shirts up in the 
sun. Maybe it will be easier to untie the knots when 
they are dry. Besides, I want to see the human 
fish again in his great diving act.” 

It was almost supper time when the knots were 
untied and we were ready for home ; but we didn’t 
take the shortest cut. We marched down Summer 
Street from one end to the other, looking for the 
Gang and yelling for them to come out and meet 
us halfway. 

“Anyhow,” said Hank, at last, when we had 


57 


The Summer Street Gang 

made up our minds that we might as well go home, 
“ we did it to them once and they were only getting 
even.” 

Just the same, we didn’t like it. It makes a differ- 
ence somehow whether you do a thing yourself or 
the other fellow does it. 

Skinny stopped at our house Sunday afternoon, 
looking so dressed up I hardly knew him. It was 
easy to *see that there was something on his mind. 
As soon as he had a chance he motioned for me to 
come out into the yard, and we sat down on the 
woodpile in the shade of the barn. 

“ Pedro,” said he, “ I saw Dick Elmore at 
Sunday school to-day.” 

Dick is leader of the Summer Street Gang and 
one of the guys who tied our shirts. 

“ Did you lick him?” I asked. 

“ How could I in Sunday school, with the teacher 
looking ?” 

“ What did you do?” 

“ Didn’t do anything but when he was going out 
he handed me this card and hurried on before I 


could hit him.” 


58 The Summer Street Gang 

I read the card and what it said almost took my 
breath away: 

“ We want you Bob's Hill boys to keep away from 
our Basin. It’s on our side of town. We’re keeping 
away from your cave. You keep away from the 
Basin, or we’ll make you.” 

“ You bet they keep away from the cave,” I told 
him, “ and they will keep on doing it if they know 
when they are well off.” 

We wouldn’t let them come fooling around our 
cave, of course. We discovered the cave and we 
fixed it up inside. That made it belong to us. But 
it was different with the Basin. We discovered 
that as much as they did and had been swimming 
there as long as we could remember. Besides, you 
have to go swimming in summer time but you 
don’t have to have a cave, although it is fun. 

“ Pedro,” said Skinny, solemn-like, “ think of 
something, can’t you? We’ve got to do something. 
There ain’t enough water at Peck’s Falls to swim in. 
You can duck and all that but you can’t swim.” 

“ We could swim in the race,” I told him. “ We 
do sometimes, anyhow.” 



I Read the Card and What It Said Almost Took My 
Breath Away 
















. 

















































The Summer Street Gang 59 

“ There isn’t any good place to dive and the 
water isn’t so clean and nice.” 

“ It looks like that, or fight, and there are a lot 
of them.” 

Skinny hauled off and gave a few undercuts in 
the air. It was fierce. 

“ That would fix ’em,” said he, “ but first we 
ought to have a meetin’. Mr. Norton doesn’t like 
to have us fight. I’ll draw the Sign on the bridge 
on the way home, calling a meetin’ at the cave right 
after school to-morrow.” 


CHAPTER V 


A FIGHT AT THE BASIN 

I T was the last week of school and we didn’t 
feel much like studying or sitting still in a hot 
room. School is all right in winter time, when 
you don’t want to go hopping on bobs, and on rainy 
days; but when summer comes, every waving branch 
seems to beckon us out to play; old Greylock looks 
down on us through a break in the hills sort of pity- 
ing-like, as if he hated to have us kept in a stuffy 
room; and by shutting our eyes we can see the cool 
shadows chasing over the Basin and seem to hear 
the roaring laugh of Peck’s Falls. 

Say, the last week of school isn’t easy. I guess 
Teacher thought so, too, for she looked tired, even 
if it was Monday, and twice I caught her gazing 
out of the window at the mountain. 

We saw the other boys at recess and told them 

about the meeting, for fear they might not see the 
60 


6i 


A Fight at the Basin 

Sign in time. When school was out we made a bee- 
line for the cave, without stopping to go home first. 
Tom wasn’t with us; he had commenced work that 
morning. 

“Has anybody thought of anything?” asked 
Skinny, after the meeting had been called to order. 

“ Let’s hear from Bill— I mean the gentleman from 
Pleasant Street.” 

“ Sk— Mr. Chairman,” said Bill, getting up so 
suddenly that he nearly bumped his head, “ it’s too 
hot for a meetin’. ‘"Let’s go swimmin’ ” 

We all stopped him with a yell, for everybody 
felt the same. Some of the boys started to un- 
button their clothes. Bill waved his hand and we 
waited to listen. 

“I was saying, let’s go swimmin’, up to the 
Basin” 

When Bill said that we all were quiet for a few 
seconds; then as it came over us what he meant, we 
burst into a roar and started to scramble out of the 
cave. 

“ Order ! Order !” yelled Skinny, pounding with 
his hatchet until he was red in the face. “The 


62 A Fight at the Basin 

meetin’ will come to order. Come on back, you 
fellers; it ain’t business.” 

He finally made us hear and we gathered around 
once more. Being scribe, I nudged Harry. 

“ I move that we adjourn,” he shouted. 

“ All in favor of ’journing and swimmin ’ — at the 

Basin ” Skinny began but if he finished nobody 

heard. 

“ Aye, aye, aye,” we yelled, and in another 
minute were climbing the side of the ravine on the 
way to the Basin. Fifteen minutes later we charged 
across Summer Street, keeping our eyes open for 
the enemy, and up through the hillside pasture, half 
expecting the Summer Street Gang to jump out at 
us every minute and bar the way. 

At the top of the path which leads down into the 
ravine we stopped to decide what to do. It would 
be ticklish business going down that path single file, 
if the gang were at the bottom. 

We listened a minute and couldn’t hear a sound 
except some birds in the bushes. Motioning for us 
to wait, Bill slid carefully around the tree into the 
path and made his way slowly down without any 


A Fight at the Basin 63 

noise. We knew that from one place about half- 
way down the Basin would be in plain sight. 

He was gone so long that we were just about to 
start down after him to see what had happened, 
when we heard him call. 

“ Come on in,” he yelled. “ The water’s fine.” 

We found him splashing around in the Big Basin 
and it didn’t take us long to join him but we were 
careful to leave our clothes on the rocks in plain 
sight. We didn’t want any more knots tied in 
them. 

There wasn’t anybody at either Basin except us 
and we played around until most supper time, feeling 
cool and fine when we came out. 

“ Wait a minute, fellers,” said Skinny, when we 
were ready to go. 

He went up to the wall of the cliff and began to 
write upon the stone with a piece of colored chalk. 

The others stood around, looking over his shoul- 
der. This is what he wrote : 

“ To the Summer Street Gang : 

The water is fine. Gory Gabe, 

And his Band.” 


64 A Fight at the Basin 

Then we started for home. When we crossed 
Summer Street we kept a sharp lookout but most 
of us were more worried about what might happen 
at home than about any gang. Our folks don’t like 
to have us go anywhere after school at night without 
going home first. 

“ What is the matter with all of you coming 
around by my house ? ” said Bill. “ They won’t say 
much to me if you are there.” 

That was the last time we went swimming until 
after school had closed for the summer vacation. 
It doesn’t matter why. As Skinny says, “ You 
don’t need to put in everything.” 

But the very first day of vacation we started for 
the Basin. It seemed as if we couldn’t stand it 
another minute without jumping into the water. 
Mother said that I might put a washtub out in the 
barn and jump there all I wanted to; but where is 
the fun in that? 

“ Now, fellers,” warned Skinny, “ we must keep 
together. If one of us goes up to the Basin alone 
there will be trouble. We ain’t looking for a fight, 
of course. We promised Mr. Norton that we 


A Fight at the Basin 65 

wouldn’t do any fighting except in self-defense. 
But we’ve got a right to go swimmin’ as long as our 
folks say we can and if anybody or any gang hap- 
pens to jump on us there is going to be some lively 
self-defense; believe me.” 

“ Leave it to us,” growled Bill, feeling of his 
muscle. 

The rest of us didn’t say much but I could see 
some of the boys double up their fists and Benny 
Wade slashed around in the air in great shape. 

It made a funny feeling chase up and down inside 
of us when we went through the bar^ leading into 
the pasture, not knowing what might happen and 
afraid that maybe we’d have to do the self-defense 
act. There wasn’t anybody in sight and we began 
to think that everything was going to be all right 
but when we were halfway to the path we heard 
a great noise back of us, and out from behind some 
bushes where they had been hiding came the Gang, 
between us and Summer Street. There were more 
of them than there were of us. _ 

We wheeled when they yelled; then stood there 
facing them, with a sort of sinking feeling in our 


66 A Fight at the Basin 

hearts, for no matter how hard you may try you 
can’t lick all creation. If Tom had been there I’d 
have felt different. Tom is a whirlwind when it 
comes to self-defense, as you know if you have read 
about our battle with the Gingham Ground Gang 
on Bob’s Hill, before we were friends. 

They came toward us until they were about 
twenty feet away; then stopped and Dick Elmore 
stepped out in front of the others. 

“ Now we’ve got you where we want you,” he 
said. “ Maybe Gory Gabe had better write a letter 
to his folks before we start in. After we get 
through they won’t know him.” 

It made Skinny mad and I don’t blame him. 
“ There are only eight of us,” said he, “ and a 
dozen or more of you. That shows what a lot of 
cowards you are. You dassn’t take a crowd of 
your size.” 

“ You’ll see what kind of cowards we are in about 
two minutes.” 

“ I’ll dare you to come halfway,” Skinny told 
him. “ It will only take me a minute and a half to 
write a letter on your face.” 


A Fight at the Basin 67 

We all laughed at that and Skinny stepped for- 
ward halfway, with his fists doubled. Dick didn’t 
move except to look around at his gang and beckon 
them up closer. 

When he saw that, Bill let out an awful yell and 
jumped into the air, knocking his heels together 
twice before he struck ground again. 

“ Come on! ” he shouted. “ What are you afraid 
of? I can lick any two fellows in the gang. Pick 
’em out.” 

His yell almost scared them for a second, until 
they saw what it was; then they came for us — not 
two but all of them. 

“Charge!” yelled Skinny. He started to say 
something about Bunker Hill but there wasn’t 
time. 

We charged all right. There wasn’t anything 
else to do. It was great to see Skinny and Bill then, 
only we didn’t have time to look; it was our busy 
day. We knew that our only chance was to break 
through the line and get to Summer Street, and 
break through we did after some hard fighting. 
Once through, we turned and faced them but kept 


66 A Fight at the Basin 

hearts, for no matter how hard you may try you 
can’t lick all creation. If Tom had been there I’d 
have felt different. Tom is a whirlwind when it 
comes to self-defense, as you know if you have read 
about our battle with the Gingham Ground Gang 
on Bob’s Hill, before we were friends. 

They came toward us until they were about 
twenty feet away; then stopped and Dick Elmore 
stepped out in front of the others. 

“ Now we’ve got you where we want you,” he 
said. “ Maybe Gory Gabe had better write a letter 
to his folks before we start in. After we get 
through they won’t know him.” 

It made Skinny mad and I don’t blame him. 
“ There are only eight of us,” said he, “ and a 
dozen or more of you. That shows what a lot of 
cowards you are. You dassn’t take a crowd of 
your size.” 

“ You’ll see what kind of cowards we are in about 
two minutes.” 

“ I’ll dare you to come halfway,” Skinny told 
him. “ It will only take me a minute and a half to 
write a letter on your face.” 


A Fight at the Basin 67 

We all laughed at that and Skinny stepped for- 
ward halfway, with his fists doubled. Dick didn’t 
move except to look around at his gang and beckon 
them up closer. 

When he saw that, Bill let out an awful yell and 
jumped into the air, knocking his heels together 
twice before he struck ground again. 

“ Come on ! ” he shouted. “ What are you afraid 
of? I can lick any two fellows in the gang. Pick 
’em out.” 

His yell almost scared them for a second, until 
they saw what it was; then they came for us — not 
two but all of them. 

“Charge!” yelled Skinny. He started to say 
something about Bunker Hill but there wasn’t 
time. 

We charged all right. There wasn’t anything 
else to do. It was great to see Skinny and Bill then, 
only we didn’t have time to look; it was our busy 
day. We knew that our only chance was to break 
through the line and get to Summer Street, and 
break through we did after some hard fighting. 
Once through, we turned and faced them but kept 


68 A Fight at the Basin 

moving backward toward home and wishing that 
we were there. 

They didn’t jump on us again but followed after 
as we backed out of the pasture, asking how we 
liked it and telling us to come on in, the water was 
fine, and things like that. 

At last we came to the street where we felt sort 
of safe near the houses. Skinny was just telling 
them that next time we’d have enough of the Ging- 
ham Ground Gang with us to make things even and 
that what we’d do to them then would be a-plenty, 
when who should come along but Mr. Norton, our 
Scoutmaster. 

It made us glad and it made us sorry and kind 
of ashamed; glad because we knew that would stop 
the fight, and ashamed because he had caught us 
fighting. He looked at us a minute without speak- 
ing, sort of sad-like and yet with a half smile on 
his face, as if he was thinking of things that hap- 
pened when he was a boy. 

“ What is the trouble, Captain ? ” he asked, finally. 
“ Your company seems to be beating an honorable 


retreat . 1 


A Fight at the Basin 69 

“ It was self-defense, just the same,” began 
Skinny. “ When a dozen fellers jump on to eight 
you have to fight or take a licking.” 

“ I am surprised at you, Dick Elmore. It seems 
to be necessary for boys to fight once in a while. 
Anyhow, I shouldn’t like to do anything that would 
take the fight out of a boy. He will need it all, and 
then some, as he goes through life. But it doesn’t 
seem exactly square for a dozen chaps to pitch on 
to eight, and I always have found you square before. 
How is it? Are you afraid of these Bob’s Hill 
boys? ” 

“ No, sir,” said Dick, “ but they are good fighters 
and we thought that we’d do the job up for keeps 
while we were about it.” 

“What seems to be the trouble?” 

“ We told them to keep away from the Basin.” 

“O ho! Sits the wind in that quarter?” 

“ What did you say?” 

“ I say this. Let’s get this fighting business out 
of our systems. In olden times the leaders of two 
opposing armies often would fight it out between 
themselves, while the others looked on. It was a 


70 A Fight at the Basin 

pretty good way and saved a whole lot of trouble. 
Now, Skinny, you and Dick get busy. I want to 
see how you do it.” 

“ Aw, I don’t want to,” Skinny told him. 
“ A feller can’t fight with everybody looking at 
him.” 

“ Well, as Dick seems to feel the same about it, 
I suppose that we’ll have to find some other way to 
settle the row. How will this do? I have been 
watching you Summer Street boys a long time, 
thinking what fine material you would make for 
Boy Scouts. There are two patrols already in my 
troop, these Bob’s Hill boys and some chaps from 
the Gingham Ground, and we need another. Dick, 
suppose that you pick out eight of your fellows and 
we’ll form a new patrol; two of them, if you can get 
hold of sixteen. I’ve had a promise of uniforms 
for one more patrol. How fortunate that we all 
happened along at this time! It will enable us to 
get through with the preliminaries early in your 
vacation ; then we can go out on a long hike together. 
What do you say ? ” 

“How about it, fellers?” whispered Skinny, 


A Fight at the Basin 71 

while the Summer Street boys were talking it over 
among themselves. “I feel kind of mad yet; and 
how about the Basin ? ” 

“ Forget it,” I told him. “ Mr. Norton knows 
what he is about.” 

“ There are eight of us, Mr. Norton, who want 
to do it,” called Dick just then. 

“ That is good. Can you meet at my house 
to-morrow evening, at half-past seven o’clock, to 
talk it over and name your officers? I think the 
neighbors might be persuaded to send in some ice 
cream, enough for the Ravens, too, if they will 
come. You will understand, of course, that Mrs. 
Norton would not like to have her furniture broken. 
If you should get to fighting you might mar the 
piano.” 

“ Guess what,” said Benny, “ you can’t fight and 
eat ice cream at the same time.” 

“ That is a good thought, Benny, worth remem- 
bering as you go through life. We’ll risk it, any- 
how, and let me say that while you Ravens are a 
pretty husky bunch you will have to go some when 
our new patrol gets started.” 


72 A Fight at the Basin 

He turned down the street again; then thought of 
something more. 

“ By the way,” he asked* “ how about the Basin? 
It seems a pity to keep anybody away this hot 
weather, with vacation just starting. I might like 
to take a swim, myself. Why can’t you chaps make 
a treaty of peace, the Ravens to go swimming cer- 
tain days of the week, or maybe it would be better 
for them to go mornings and the Summer Street 
boys, afternoons?” 

“ Aw, they can go any old time,” Dick told him. 
“We don’t care; do we, boys?” 

“ You were right, Benny,” said Mr. Norton, 
smiling to himself as we walked down the street 
with him. “ One can’t fight and eat ice cream at 
the same time. Remember that always; it may save 
you a lot of trouble.” 


CHAPTER VI 


TIGER PATROL 

M Y father says that the days are too short 
and that even the years roll around so fast 
that it makes his head swim. No sooner does he 
start kicking about how hot it is than his teeth 
begin to chatter with the cold and he has to change 
his tune. 

The Band doesn’t think so; it doesn’t seem that 
way to us. Some days are so long that they are like 
a month of Sundays. It is worst when we are wait- 
ing to do something or go somewhere, like Fourth 
of July or going up to Mr. Norton’s; most of all, 
to do what we decided after we went up there. But 
I can’t put that in here because it didn’t happen until 
later. 

“ A person would think you never had been up to 
Mr. Norton’s before and never would get a chance 
to go again,” mother told me, when I asked for the 

fourth time if it was too early to go. 

73 


74 Tiger Patrol 

“ I don’t know how the man does it,” she went 
on. “ You boys are never nearly so crazy to come 
here and I give away half my doughnuts ’most every 
Saturday but I’d rather have you with him than 
anywhere else I know. I’ll say this much, you are 
a better boy and a good deal more of a man since 
you joined the Boy Scouts.” 

“ We are going to have a new patrol,” I told her. 
“ Eight of the Summer Street Gang are coming in.” 

“ What ! That crowd of young ruffians who pick 
on you so much ? ” 

“ I guess the picking isn’t all on one side,” 
laughed father, looking up from his paper. “ Take 
it from me who knows, the Ravens are able to take 
care of themselves and even to start things on occa- 
sions. If there is any ‘ picking ’ going on, they will 
do their share.” 

“ Well, it doesn’t look good to me to see our only 
child come home from Summer Street with a black 
eye and all scratched up.” 

“ Mr. Norton is going to have ice cream,” I said, 
trying to change the subject, “ and Jim Donavan 
of the Eagles is going to be there.” 


Tiger Patrol 75 

“Now/’ said Mr. Norton, an hour later, after 
we had scraped our dishes clean, “ let us talk over 
this Scout business. The Ravens will tell you 
all of the details and what fun it is to be 
a Scout, from time to time as you meet and play 
together, but we can talk it over here in a general 
way. 

“ First of all, I want to say that scouting in 
America is not a military movement, as some good 
people seem to think, unless it is militarism to make 
a boy strong and brave. We are not trying to make 
soldiers out of the boys or to train up fighters. We 
wish to make men out of them— strong men, physi- 
cally and morally — who will be able to defend their 
homes and their country, if need be, and to take 
care of themselves at all times.” 

Bill opened his mouth to yell at that but I hit him 
in the back just in time. 

“ You boys are more fortunate than city boys, to 
my way of thinking. You roam the hills and woods, 
as free as the Indians were, themselves, or nearly 
so. You live out of doors, adding to your strength 
daily and unconsciously drinking in the beauty and 


76 Tiger Patrol 

the wonder of it all, and you learn naturally much 
that the Boy Scout movement teaches.” 

“ That’s so,” put in Skinny. “ When we joined 
the Scouts it wasn’t much different from what we 
had been doing, when we played bandit and Injun, 
only more so.” 

“ Of course, there is a great deal for you village 
boys to learn but think of the city chaps who have 
to go miles to get away from houses and pavements 
and police, into the woods and fields. If they did 
half the things you do every day of your lives, they 
would be arrested. What you do isn’t bad, or out 
of place, because nobody is annoyed by it but it 
wouldn’t be tolerated in a city. That kind of life 
is what we call artificial; that is, unnatural. Some- 
thing should be done to bring into boys’ lives, and 
girls’, too, conditions which have been taken away 
by city life and which are needed to make strong, 
rugged, self-reliant, resourceful men and women, — 
true to themselves, true to their country, and true to 
God. 

“ A boy ought to be able to take care of himself 
wherever you put him. If dropped in the midst of 


Tiger Patrol 77 

a trackless wilderness he should be able to make his 
way out, to find food and water, to cook his food 
properly, to produce fire by friction if there is no 
other way, to know trees and birds and something 
of the great and beautiful world he lives in. All 
that is needed is to direct the boy’s energies; he will 
do the rest and have the time of his life doing it. 
So we have the Boy Scouts of America, not scouts 
in a military sense but in a pioneer sense, as a foun- 
dation on which can be built a better citizenship, a 
sturdier race, a truer manhood, a nobler character. 
Then, when you boys have grown up, you can do 
what I am trying to do, help along the boys who 
will come after you — partly because you love them 
and partly because you owe it to God. 

“We are all passing through the world— just 
passing through, that is all. We want to have a lot 
of fun while going through, of course, and when 
you boys have grown up you will want to be able to 
earn a reasonable amount of money; but, listen — 
the man who passes through without leaving the 
world a little better than he found it is a failure, and 
the more money such a man succeeds in accumu- 


78 Tiger Patrol 

lating, the greater his failure, because his lost oppor- 
tunities for making the world better have been 
greater. 

“ Now, I have made more of a speech than I 
intended and if you boys feel the need of refresh- 
ment you will find a jar of lemonade over in that 
corner. Then let us get down to business.” 

“ Pedro, you put what our Scoutmaster said in 
the minutes of the meeting so everybody can read 
it,” said Skinny between swallows. 

After we had tried the lemonade, the Summer 
Street boys told us that they had chosen Dick 
Elmore for their patrol leader. 

“ He will make a good one,” said Mr. Norton. 
“ You also will need an assistant patrol leader 
and a scribe. This will be a good time to choose 
them.” 

After some talk the Summer Street boys decided 
to have Frank Barker for assistant patrol leader 
and Jerry Upton for scribe. 

“Fine!” exclaimed our Scoutmaster. “How 
about your patrol animal ? ” 

“ What is that?” 


79 


Tiger Patrol 

■* Every patrol chooses an animal to be known by, 
and the call of that animal becomes the call of the 
patrol. The Bob’s Hill boys chose the raven because 
there are so many crows beyond the hill, up toward 
Greylock.” 

“ Everybody caw ! ” shouted Skinny. 

“ We might choose the squirrel,” said Dick, when 
it was still again. “ There are a lot of squirrels in 
the woods up by the Basin, but how could we bark 
like one? ” 

“ Guess what,” put in Benny. “ I can t bark like 
a squirrel but I know how to catch em. Climb a 
tree and make a noise like a nut.” 

“ That would be easy for you,” Dick told him. 

“ m tell you what,” said Skinny. “ There are 
bears over on the Summer Street side of town. I 
lassoed one once, coming down East Mountain, that 
time we did our First Class Scout stunt. Climbed a 
tree and dropped the lasso over his head as slick as 
grease. Didn’t I, fellers? Say, it surprised him 
some. Why not take a bear for your patrol animal? 
You could growl like a bear.” 

There was a lot of growling for a minute, until 


8o Tiger Patrol 

Mr. Norton put his hands over his ears and began 
to call for help. 

“ The patrol leader of the Ravens seems to have 
made a good suggestion,” said he, “ although some 
of us have heard before about that cub which chased 
him up a tree. What do you say, Dick? ” 

“ I say that we’d rather call ourselves Tigers,” 
said he, looking hard at Skinny. “ They don’t lasso 
tigers; it wouldn’t be safe.” 

“Shucks!” Skinny began. “Tigers! Betcher 
life I ” 

“ Fellows,” said Mr. Norton, hurriedly, winking 
at Benny, “ the ice cream is all gone but there is 
plenty of lemonade left. Have some on me.” 

When we had finished drinking Mr. Norton gath- 
ered the Tigers around him. 

“ It is customary,” he said, “ for each of our 
patrols to choose a secret password. The Ravens 
have such a password. In all the world nobody 
knows that word except the members of Raven 
Patrol and myself and nobody ever can know it 
unless one of us betrays the secret. Nobody possi- 
bly can find out what that word is. It is not written 


Tiger Patrol 81 

down anywhere. It is not even in the dictionary. 

“We first took. a motto suggested by one of the 
Scout laws; then by using the first letters, or per- 
haps it was the last letters, of the words in that 
motto, we formed a new word that never had been 
formed before. That new word is the patrol pass- 
word. 

“ Now, you Tigers come with me into the next 
room while we choose a word. Even the Ravens 
must not know this.” 

They went out and pretty soon we heard a great 
noise of laughing and shouting. 

“ Gee ! ” said Skinny. “ That must be a word 
and a half. But they will have to go some to beat 
ours.” 

“ Ours, too,” said Jim. “ I ’most gave ours away 
in my sleep one night.” 

I can’t tell what the Tigers’ word was because 
I don’t know. When they had come back into the 
room Mr. Norton called Jim Donavan to him. 

“ Jim,” said he, “ you are here to-night as patrol 
leader of Eagle Patrol. You Eagles are working 
for First Class Scout badges and one of the things 


82 


Tiger Patrol 

we require you to do is for each to train another 
lad to be a Scout. Here is your chance to make 
good. These Tigers must be trained. They must 
be able to repeat and explain the twelve Scout laws; 
and know the Scout sign, salute and meaning of the 
badge; they must be able to tie any four of eight or 
ten knots when called upon; they must know the 
composition and history of the national flag, and 
they must learn and receive the Scout oath. I am 
going to assign the boys of this new patrol to the 
Eagles. Let each Eagle take one of the boys in 
hand and teach him these things as soon as possible. 
Bring him back here a trained Tenderfoot one week 
from to-night. Can you do it in that short time? ” 

“ I’ll see the boys to-morrow,” Jim told him, 
“ and we’ll get busy right away.” 

We were thinking that maybe it was time to go 
home when Mr. Norton held up one hand for us to 
be quiet. 

“ There is another little matter which I’d like to 
bring before the meeting,” said he, “ and see what 
you will think of it. I find that it is necessary for 
me to go to Boston pretty soon on business. After 


Tiger Patrol 83 

that I shall be free for a couple of weeks, and I 
really need a vacation. There is no better place to 
spend a vacation than in and around Boston.” 

“ Gee, Mr. Norton,” said Skinny, “ take us with 
you, can’t you? Take us down to Bunker Hill, 
where they watched for the whites of the enemy’s 
eyes.” 

“ That is just what I was going to speak about. 
We have our tents and camping outfits and we have 
learned how to camp to the best advantage, so that 
an outing of that kind need not cost a great deal of 
money. There will be good fun in it for those who 
can go and a great deal to learn. There are more 
history and inspiration to the square foot in Boston 
than any other place I know. This is pretty short 
notice and probably all of you will not be able to go; 
your folks will have other plans; but we ought to be 
able to get together a dozen fellows from our three 
patrols. How about celebrating Fourth of July, 
Skinny, in the shadow of Bunker Hill monu- 
ment? ” 

“ Gee-whillikins ! ” That was all Skinny could 
say but we knew what he meant. 


84 Tiger Patrol 

“ Find out who can go as soon as you can. We 
ought to be in marching order within ten days, if 
we wish to get settled before the Fourth/’ 

“ Are we going to hike?” Benny asked. 

“I think not; it is too far. We could do it, in 
easy stages, but it would take too long. It will be 
more profitable and more fun to spend the time in 
and around Boston and at the shore. On the way 
back, if we feel like it, we can get off at Hoosac 
Tunnel station and climb over the mountain to 
North Adams, like we did before.” 

“ Can we go fishing in the ocean? ” asked Bill. 

“ Surely we can. Why not? We’ll go out after 
cod. Didn’t Benny tell us once that the saltness 
of the ocean is due to the presence of so many cod- 
fish? There will not be so many when we come 
away.” 

“ We all slapped Benny on the back at that ; then, 
laughing and shouting, started for home. 

“ There is some sense to that plan,” said father, 
when I told him what we wanted to do. “ I didn’t 
quite like the idea of your going so far from home 
when you went to Indiana and Illinois, although it 


Tiger Patrol 85 

turned out all right. You can go; that is, if your 
mother is willing. What you will learn there will 
be worth more to the country and to you than a 
whole term in the schoolroom. What this Nation 
needs is a little old-fashioned patriotism. It is a 
good thing to begin with the boys, and Boston is a 
good place to start. ,, 

“ Skinny is strong on patriotism/’ I told him. 

“ You are right,” he said. “ I wish we had more 
like him. With Mr. Norton and Skinny along the 
country will be safe but they’d better nail the town 
down.” 

That made it right for me but I didn’t know about 
the other boys until Sunday afternoon, when some 
of them dropped in to sit on the woodpile and talk 
things over. 

“ I can go, Pedro,” called Skinny, as he came into 
the yard. 

“ So can I,” said Bill, who was with him. 

“ That makes three, anyhow,” I told them. “ The 
folks will let me go. How about the others?” 

“ There is Benny now, over in his yard.” Bill 
whistled as low as he could and made Benny hear, it 


86 Tiger Patrol 

being Sunday. He came tearing across the street 

on a jump. 

“ Can you go, fellers? I can, ’ he called, before 
he was inside the gate. 

“ That is four,” said Skinny. “ Gee, I hope 
the rest can go. We’ll make Boston sit up and take 
notice.” 

Hank saw us a little later, as he was coming down 
the street. 

“ They said I could go,” he told us, “ if I’d be as 
easy on spending money as I could. I’ve got ’most 
enough saved, anyhow. I saw Dick Elmore on the 
way down. He is going and maybe Frank Barker, 
his assistant patrol leader, will go.” 

“ Seven. I tried to get Tom Chapin to go. He 
said he couldn’t but that maybe he’d come over for 
a week end while we were there.” 

“ How about the Eagles? ” I asked. “ Has any- 
body heard from them ? ” 

Nobody knew, so we walked down to the Ging- 
ham Ground to find out. Being Boy Scouts makes 
a difference. At one time we shouldn’t have dared 
walk down there with our best clothes on because 


Tiger Patrol 87 

there would have been something doing when the 
Gang saw us. 

Jim came running down the street to meet us. 
“ I can go,” he shouted, “ but I am the only one. 
It will cost too much for the others.” 

“ Sure, Jimmy is going,” said Mrs. Donavan. 
“ If I wur-ruk the flesh off my bones he’s going. 
The lad has had some schooling, thanks to you bys, 
and he can lairn more in wan minnit with Mr. 
Narton than he could at home in a yair.” 

After that the days went slowly enough, although 
there was plenty to do to get ready. We tried to 
think up some scheme to make money so that we 
could take more of the Eagles along but there wasn’t 
time. It takes time to make money. 

“ If only we could find some more buried treas- 
ure up in the Bellows Pipe,” mourned Skinny one 
day. 

“ Or a gold mine on Greylock,” added Hank. “ I 
have been thinking of that a long time. I’ll bet gold 
is up there, if we only knew where to look. There 
’most always is gold in mountains.” 

“ Let’s look for some.” 


CHAPTER VII 


HUNTING FOR GOLD 


HE scribe dreamed that night of finding 



enough gold to make the Ravens rich. It 


lay there on the mountainside, shining in the sun, 
so bright that we had to shut our eyes, but we never 
could take hold of it. Something would stop us 
every time. I could hear Skinny calling, as if from 
a long way off, telling me to get busy. Then I 
reached out toward the gold again, while Skinny’s 
voice kept getting louder and louder, until finally I 
opened my eyes; and there wasn’t any gold at all, 
only my room at home, with me lying in bed. 

It was broad daylight but the sun was still behind 
East Mountain and nobody was stirring in the 
house. As I lay there, trying to sleep again, I 
still could hear Skinny’s voice, as in my dream. 

I couldn’t understand it until I heard the caw of 
a crow under my window; then I jumped up and 


Hunting for Gold 91 

looked out. In the driveway between our house 
and Phillips’s were Skinny, Bill, and Hank, each 
with a tin pail. 

“ Hurry down, Pedro,” whispered Skinny, when 
he saw me at the window. “ Hank has found a 
good divining rod and we want to try it before 
folks get around.” 

I nodded but didn’t speak for fear of waking 
somebody and in a few minutes joined them in 
front of the house. 

“ I thought the meeting was at nine o’clock,” I 
said. “ It isn’t five yet.” 

“ The meeting is at nine but we wanted to try 
it out first. Hank could only find one rod. It’s a 
dandy.” 

“ It doesn’t look like much to me.” 

“ You wait and see. It will surprise folks when 
we show them what we have found. Get a pail, 
Pedro. We want to bring home all we can of it 
when we come to breakfast.” 

Soon we were climbing Bob’s Hill, taking the 
easiest way because we didn’t care about going to 
the highest part. When we rounded the shoulder 


92 Hunting for Gold 

of the hill, the village still lay in the shadow but the 
upper part of Greylock was all lighted up with sun- 
shine. 

When we reached the west road we started up 
the mountain. It was great to be out that time 
of morning. The air was cool; the crows were 
calling, and we could hear the roaring of Peck’s 
Falls over in the woods. It made us want to see 
our cave. 

“ We can see it later,” Skinny told us. “ We’ll 
have to hide the gold there, anyhow, except what 
we take home in the pails.” 

" Where do we start in, Hank? ” asked Bill, when 
we had passed the woods. 

“I don’t know; the book didn’t say. I guess it 
won’t make any difference as long as we begin some- 
where. This looks like a good place.” 

We left the road as he spoke, turning into a sort 
of clearing on the mountainside. 

“ Did anybody bring the witch-hazel ? ” asked 
Hank. 

Skinny handed him a bottle and he smeared the 
stick all over with it. 


Hunting for Gold 93 

“ Now, I’ll show you how to do it. You hold my 
pail, Pedro.” 

He took one fork of the rod in each hand and 
held it out over the ground as he walked. Then we 
tramped back and forth over the clearing, watching 
the rod every minute to see where it would point. 

“ Don’t you feel it pull any, Hank?” asked 
Skinny, anxiously, after we had done it a long time 
and were getting tired. 

“ A little, once or twice; sort of a nibble but not 
enough to tell for sure.” 

“ Hunting for gold is hard work,” grumbled Bill. 
“ I don’t believe Hank’s rod is any good. A grand- 
daddy-long-legs would be better. They will point 
toward water every time, and maybe toward gold.” 

We went at it again, just the same, but the thing 
wouldn’t point and we were getting hungrier every 
minute. Finally, Hank dropped his arms to his 
sides to rest them. 

“Look!” I shouted, when I saw where the rod 
was pointing. 

“ Is it gold ? ” asked the others, crowding around. 

“ No; something better. You can’t eat gold.” 


94 Hunting for Gold 

They looked where the rod and I both pointed. 
What they saw was a big patch of wild strawberries, 
which I’ll leave it to anybody who ever ate any, are 
away ahead of gold, when they are ripe and you are 
hungry. In a minute we were on our knees, picking 
and eating for all we were worth. 

“ I’ll tell you what, fellers,” said Skinny, after a 
while. “ It’s ’most breakfast time. Let’s hide the 
divining rod until after we have had the meetin’ and 
carry home a lot of berries to the folks. Then they 
won’t ask us what we have been doing. And, 
remember, mum’s the word.” 

The folks were wondering what had become of 
me, when at last I reached home; but the minute 
they caught sight of the berries a shout went up and 
mother grabbed the pail. 

“ You are a dear child,” she said, “ to get up so 
early and pick strawberries for our breakfast and, 
you poor boy, you are all hot and tired. Lie down 
on the couch until I get the berries hulled. I’ll call 
you when breakfast is ready.” 

Say, Skinny has a great head ! 

At nine o’clock the Ravens met at the cave, as 


Hunting for Gold 95 

we had planned to do the day before. We told the 
other boys about looking for gold in the morning 
early and not finding anything but strawberries. 

“ This time,” said Hank, “ we’ll go south on the 
mountain.” 

“ And we’ll find gold, too,” added Bill. “ I ’most 
know we will.” 

It didn’t take long to get the rod; then, with 
Hank holding it as before, we started south from 
the road, along the mountainside. 

“ I know what the trouble is,” Hank told us, after 
we had been working an hour or two. “ I’ve been 
holding the thing too tight; it couldn’t point if it 
wanted to. Now watch while I try again.” 

In less than five minutes we all gave a shout, for 
the rod tipped so suddenly and so far that Hank 
nearly dropped it. Then we stood there, half scared, 
looking where it was pointing. 

“ The brook ! ” exclaimed Skinny. “ It is point- 
ing toward water and gold at the same time. That 
is what made it pull so hard.” 

The rod pointed toward a little stream that gur- 
gled and sang its way down the mountain toward 


g6 Hunting for Gold 

a farm which we could see below. We all watched 
while Skinny pawed around in the gravel. Soon he 
brought up both hands full of sand and stones, and 
when the water had drained off we could see little 
chunks of gold all through it, glistening in the sun- 
shine. You could have hung a hat on his eyes, they 
stuck out so, and we all were about the same. 

“ Fellers, 1 ” he shouted, “ we’ve done it. We’ve 
struck gold, and are as rich as old What’s-his-name. ,, 

It seemed too good to be true but there was the 
stuff, shining, every time we looked. We hadn’t 
brought anything to dig with or to put the gold in; 
so, after talking it over, we decided that Benny and 
I should go back for shovels and pails, we living 
nearest, while the others watched to see that nobody 
meddled with our mine. 

“ Pedro,” called Hank, after we had started, 
“ bring some kind of dish that we can use to wash 
out the gold in, something with flaring sides. I’ll 
show you fellows a thing or two. I’ve been reading 
up on gold mining.” 

It took nearly an hour for us to make the trip. 
When we came back each had a shovel and a pail 


97 


Hunting for Gold 

and I had mother’s frying pan. That was the only 
dish I could find with flaring sides, and they didn’t 
flare enough to hurt anybody. That was what kept 
us so long. I had to wait until there wasn’t any- 
body in the kitchen. 

Hank took the frying pan and filled it with sand 
and gravel from the bed of the stream. He carried 
this down to where the brook was deeper and held 
it in the water, just under the surface. The flowing 
water washed the dirt and sand over the edge. 
Then he shook and twisted the pan, something like 
popping corn, and all the time the dirt and sand came 
to the top and washed over the side. 

“ You see,” he told us, “ gold is heavier than dirt 
and sand. When I shake the pan the gold sinks to 
the bottom and the dirt washes over the edge.” 

After he had washed away all that he could we 
picked out some of the stones that were left; then 
poured the gold and what dirt didn’t wash out into 
one of the pails. 

We took turns doing that and digging, for it was 
hard work, keeping at it until almost dinner time, 
and we were beginning to think about going home, 


98 Hunting for Gold 

when we saw a man coming up the mountain from 
the farmhouse below. He was shouting and waving 
his arms. 

We thought at first that he knew about the gold 
but when he had come nearer we could hear him 
yelling something about us muddying up his drink- 
ing water. He had run a pipe from the brook into 
his house so that he could have running water in 
the kitchen. 

“ Beat it, fellers,” said Skinny, “ and mum’s the 
word.” 

Two boys took hold of each pail; two others car- 
ried the shovels; Hank grabbed the divining rod, 
and I, the frying pan. Then we started for the 
cave. 

He didn’t follow us, although he kept shouting 
something and shaking his fists at us until we were 
out of sight. Once out on the road, we felt safe 
and took it easier. When we came opposite the 
falls we turned into the woods, feeling great because 
we had two pails of gold, but a little anxious about 
the mine, on account of the farmer. 

“ Gee-whillikins, fellers,” said Skinny, putting 



“You See, Gold Is Heavier than Dirt and Sand’ 





























Hunting for Gold 99 

down his side of a pail. “ Gold is awful heavy 
stuff. Here, Harry, you and Chuck grab hold and 
let us carry the shovels a while.” 

He ran on ahead, dodging from tree to tree, until 
suddenly, with a warning hiss, he dropped flat on 
the ground. We dropped, too, although we didn t 
know why. It is always best to play safe. 

Pretty soon, as we lay there, we heard a crack- 
ling among the trees and bushes and a man came 
in sight, walking through the woods. When he had 
passed without seeing us, Skinny arose to his feet, 
took good aim with his shovel and fired; then 
dropped to the ground again; wriggled along to the 
next tree; made a dash for a screen of bushes, and 
in another moment was out of sight. He was out 
of hearing, too, for hardly a sound did he make 
except once or twice the snapping of a stick, until 
we heard him caw over near the falls. 

“ Answer, Benny,” said Bill, who is assistant 
patrol leader and doesn’t get a chance to work at it 
much. “ You do it best.” 

“ Caw ! Caw-caw ! ” called Benny, sounding 
almost like a real crow. 


ioo Hunting for Gold 

We found Skinny out on Pulpit Rock, looking 
down over the pulpit part to where our cave is. 

“ The coast is clear, my brave men,” said he. 

“ Follow me. Old Long Knife will lead the way. 

We crept down the side of the ravine toward the 
cave and hid behind some bushes, while Skinny went 
forward and knocked on the rock, like the bandits 
did in Arabian Nights. 

“ Open see-zam,” said he. 

“ Is she open, Skinny?” called Bill. 

For answer, he beckoned to us. Stepping out in 
the edge of the stream, we crawled into the cave, 
those carrying the gold going first and Skinny, last, 
so that he could shut the cave again. 

“ The meetin’ will come to order,” said he, when 
all were inside. “We must decide what to do, 
fellers, about getting more gold. If we muddy up 
the man’s water he’ll make a fuss about it and stop 
us, and he’ll find out what we are doing.” 

Each one of us tried to think of some way out of 
it. Bill was for going up there on the first moon- 
light night, when the man would be asleep. It was 
a good plan only we were afraid that our folks 


Hunting for Gold ioi 

might find it out and stop us. Benny wanted to dig 
the gold out carefully, trying not to roil the water, 
and carry the dirt to the cave before washing. He 
said there was more water at the cave and the wash- 
ing part would be easier. But we didn’t like the 
idea of carrying the loads of dirt so far. 

Skinny thought that it would be easier to start 
out with the divining rod again and find some more 
gold, perhaps close to the cave. We decided to do 
that, if Hank’s plan didn’t work out. Hank has a 
great head on him when it comes to making things 
and doing things. 

“ I’ll tell you what,” he began, after everybody 
else had said something. “ Don’t you remember, 
the place where we found the gold was at a bend in 
the brook? Let’s cut a ditch straight across 
so that the water needn’t go around the bend at 
all.” 

“ How will we wash out the gold? ” I asked. 

“ That’s so; I hadn’t thought of that part. Wait, 
I have it. We can make a part of the brook go 
another way and over a little dam, enough to wash 


the dirt out.” 


102 


Hunting for Gold 

It seemed a good way to dc- Building the dam 
would be fun, anyhow, whether the plan worked or 
not. 

That having been settled, we started for home 
but first I put some of the gold in a little bottle, 
which we used to keep matches in so that they 
wouldn’t get damp, and put it in my pocket. I 
wanted to see it sparkle and think of all the things 
we’d do with the money. 

“ Mum’s the word, fellers,” said Skinny, the last 
thing before we began to scatter. 

Just the same, it was hard at the dinner table 
to keep from telling about our find, especially when 
mother was wishing she could have an automobile 
like the wife of the man who runs the gingham 
mills. 

“ When I get rich,” I told her, “ I’ll buy you a 
couple of them, and it won’t be as long as you think, 
either.” 

“ Bless the boy ! ” she exclaimed. “ What is he 
talking about ? ” 

“ We ought to have a new house, too,” I said. 
“ This one is ’most as old as the Quaker Meeting 


Hunting for Gold 103 

House. I’ll build one bigger than Phillips’s, yes, 
bigger’n Plunkett’s.” 

“ John,” said she, “ if you were not my son I’d 
think you had been drinking. Your cheeks are as 
red as fire and your eyes don’t look natural. Where 
have you been and what have you been doing ? ” 

“ We’ve been playing up by the cave,” I told her, 
and it was true. 

She looked at me keenly for a minute before she 
spoke and I knew that she would find out something. 
You never can fool my mother. 

“ By the way,” said she, “ that reminds me. I 
have been looking all the forenoon for my frying 
pan and can’t find it anywhere. You haven’t seen 
it, have you? ” 

That settled it. It took a lot of questioning but 
she got the whole story. 

Father laid back in his chair and laughed. “ What 
will you crazy boys be up to next ? ” said he. “ Gold ! 
O, me; O, my! Somebody fan me.” 

It made me mad. “ All right,” I told him. You 
needn’t believe me if you don’t want to but look at 
that. Maybe you will believe your own eyes.” 


ic>4 Hunting for Gold 

I pulled out the bottle and handed it to him. He 
took one look at it and stopped laughing. Then he 
gave a long whistle. 

“Where did you get this, John?” he asked. 

“ Up on the side of the mountain, south of Peck’s 
Falls and farther up. Hank had a divining rod 
and it pointed to it.” 

He held the bottle up to the light, turning it first 
one way, then the other. 

“ I can’t believe it is gold,” said he, “ but it cer- 
tainly looks like it. There is gold, I presume, all 
through the Appalachian mountain system but not 
in sufficient quantities to give it value except in a 
few of the Southern states, where some mining has 
been done. Anyhow, I am afraid your mother will 
have to get along without an automobile. That 
gold, if it is gold, belongs to the man who chased 
you. You boys were on his land, stealing his prop- 
erty.” 

We hadn’t thought of that. It doesn’t seem right 
that a hill, or mountain, should belong to anybody 
in particular, and I told him so. 

“ A part of the hills— the best part— belongs to 


Hunting for Gold 105 

us all,” said he, smiling, “ and that is the landscape. 
We all can enjoy the views but whatever is on the 
land belongs to the one which the law says is owner. 
Greylock peak belongs to the state but you were on 
somebody's farm." 

“ How about those strawberries which you ate 
for breakfast?” I asked him. “ I picked them on 
the mountainside." 

I had him there and he knew it. 

“ I believe you will make a good lawyer, John, 
when you grow up,” said he. “ I'd hate to think 
that those berries were not ours. They certainly 
were worth eating. Berries and things like that, 
growing in wild places, usually are considered public 
property by general consent, although I suppose the 
owner would have a right to fence them off and 
keep us out." 

“ ’Tain’t fair," I told him. 

“ Well, you are not the only one who has thought 
so. But we are getting into a pretty deep subject- 
property rights. We can do this, if the stuff should 
turn out to be gold. We can form a company and 
buy the mining rights from the owner." 


106 Hunting for Gold 

In an hour’s time the whole town knew of our 
finding gold. Some of the boys must have told. 
Everybody was excited and I had to show my 
bottle several times. Finally, Mr. Norton came 
around. 

“ What’s all this nonsense about you boys having 
discovered gold ? ” he asked. 

“ Nonsense! ” I began; then handed him the bot- 
tle. It didn’t seem like nonsense to me. 

He held it up to the light; then poured some of 
the stuff out into his hand and looked at it. 

“ Come over to the drug store,” said he. “ We’ll 
soon find whether it is gold or not. I’ll not say 
what I think it is, until after I have tested it.” 

“ Give this boy the biggest ice cream soda in the 
place,” he called to the clerk, after a few minutes. 
“ Let him drown his sorrow in the flowing bowl.” 

“Why, ain’t it gold?” I asked him. 

“ Yes,” said he, laughing. “ Fool’s gold.” 

“Fool’s gold?” 

“That is what it is called sometimes because it 
looks so much like gold and has fooled so many 
people. Wiser folks than you have been fooled 


Hunting for Gold 107 

by it and had fleeting visions of wealth. Its real 
name is iron pyrites. The stuff is found in many 
places and you boys happened to stumble on to 
some. It has no particular value except when 
mined in large quantities for use in some of the 
industries. We’ll have to study up about it some 
day.” 

“ Do divining rods point to fool’s gold the same 
as to any other? ” 

“ Just as much as they do to the real stuff,” he 
laughed. 

I believe mother felt worse than we did about its 
being fool’s gold, on account of the automobile I 
was going to give her. 

“ Anyhow,” said she, finally, “you might bring 
back my frying pan. That will help some.” 


CHAPTER VIII 


TAKING THE OATH 


LL that week, whenever they could get a 



chance, the Eagles had been busy training 


the Tigers and getting ready for the meeting, for 
Mr. Norton wouldn’t let Dick Elmore and Frank 
Barker go to Boston with us unless they could wear 
Tenderfoot Scout pins. 

The Ravens ran across them several times at the 
Basin and then we helped but it was the Eagles’ job 
and they worked like good fellows. When the night 
of the meeting finally came around every member 
of the three patrols was at Mr. Norton’s house by 
half past seven o’clock. 

“ We are here for serious business to-night, boys, 
and not for fun,” said the Scoutmaster, after a few 
minutes of talk. “ The making of a Scout is always 
serious business for we are adding to the character- 
level of the boyhood and manhood of the Nation. 


Taking the Oath 109 

“ Jim, have you Eagles seen to the training of 
these Summer Street lads ? ” 

“ It wasn’t any trick at all,” Jim told him. “ They 
caught on fast.” 

During the next hour Mr. Norton put the 
Tigers through a hard test and couldn’t stick them 
once. 

“ You have done your work well,” he said, finally. 
“ Now we come to the important part — the Scout 
oath. You Ravens, being First Class Scouts already, 
may look on. The others will come forward.” 

“ Let each Eagle stand by the lad he has trained,” 
he went on, after the two patrols had gathered 
around him. “ Dick, being patrol leader, you will 
receive the oath first. Hold up your right hand, 
palm to the front, thumb resting on the nail of the 
little finger, the other three fingers upright. Now 
repeat the oath after me.” 

Mr. Norton, holding up his own right hand, 
grasped Dick’s left hand with his own left hand and 
began. We Ravens stood, for it didn’t seem right 
to sit. 

“ Qfi my honor I promise to do my best: ” 


no Taking the Oath 

“ On my honor I promise to do my best : ” re- 
peated Dick in a low voice. 

“ To do my duty to God and my country and obey 
the Scout law;” 

Dick’s voice was strong now and clear. “To do 
my duty to God and my country and obey the Scout 
law.” 

“To help others at all times;” 

“ To help others at all times.” 

“ To keep myself physically strong , mentally 
awake and morally straight.” 

It was great to see Mr. Norton standing there 
with his eyes shining, giving that oath. I could 
hear Skinny whispering it over to himself as I 
waited. Dick raised his head and seemed to grow 
taller as he repeated, 

“To keep myself physically strong, mentally 
awake and morally straight.” 

The Scoutmaster then fastened a Tenderfoot’s 
pin to Dick’s coat. 

“ You will notice the three points on this pin,” 
said he, “and the same three points in the Scout 
salute. It is like this as you already have learned: 


Taking the Oath in 

Hold your little finger down with the thumb across 
the palm of your hand. That leaves three fingers 
upright, indicating the three points in the Scout 
oath. With your hand held in that position, raise 
the three fingers to your forehead or cap. That 
is the Scout salute to a superior officer. Raise the 
three fingers even with your shoulder; that is the 
Scout salute to a fellow Scout, one of your pals. 

“ Dick, the public will know by that pin that you 
have taken the Scout oath and they will judge your 
actions accordingly. More; to some extent they 
will judge me and the whole Boy Scout organiza- 
tion. Whenever you see the three points of your 
pin and whenever you raise three fingers in the 
Scout salute, think of the three points of your oath : 

Duty to God and country is the first obligation of 
manhood. To help others is the second. We are 
all children of the Great Father, journeying through 
this wilderness which we call life. One of the best 
things which can be said of a boy, or man, at the 
end of that journey, is that he stopped on the way 
to help others. 

“ To keep yourself strong, alert and clean, is the 


1 12 Taking the Oath 

third point. You owe that to your own self-respect. 
You owe it to your parents, who love you and have 
given you to the world. You owe it to your coun- 
try, which never can rise higher than the character 
and intelligence of its citizens. You owe it to God, 
Who has chosen you to be one of His partners in 
His great work of creation.” 

The Scoutmaster waited a moment; then stepped 
forward suddenly and fastened a white carnation on 
Dick’s coat, near the pin. 

“ Fellows,” said he, turning to us all, “ it has 
seemed to me that a proper watchword for a Ten- 
derfoot Scout is 4 Cleanliness,’ of which the white 
carnation is a fitting symbol. Cleanliness, what 
does that mean ? ” 

He held up one hand and checked off the items 
one by one on his fingers and thumb. 

“ Clean teeth. Remember your oath and keep 
yourself physically strong. Clean teeth are an 
important part of the task. 

“ Clean breath. You cannot keep your oath as 
a Scout or obey Scout law, with your breath reeking 
of the foulness of a cigarette. 


Taking the Oath 113 

“Clean language. Nothing will so reveal the 
character and training of a boy as the language 
which he uses. Profanity is unworthy of a Scout. 

“ Clean thoughts. Throw mud into a spring and 
what happens ? The whole stream grows dirty. 
Your mind is the spring. Every act of the body 
flows out of a thought of the mind. Keep your 
thoughts clean. 

“ Clean bodies, necessary to health and to decency. 

“ Until I can pin on you a new emblem in your 
progress as a Scout and give you a new watchword, 
‘ Courage,’ let ‘ Cleanliness,’ Dick, in its five forms, 
guide your daily life.” 

When each of the Tigers in turn had received the 
oath, it was time to go home and, shouting our good 
nights, we went out into the darkness. Our Boy 
Scout troop had three patrols. 


CHAPTER IX 


AT THE SEASHORE 

M AYBE you never went to Boston. If you 
haven’t you have missed a lot of fun. 
Our camping outfits were sent ahead, so they would 
be there when we arrived and one Monday toward 
the last of June we started. Our folks all went 
down to the depot to see us off. Some of the other 
boys were there, too, and altogether they made a 
big crowd. 

“ Where is Jim Donavan? ” I asked, for I couldn’t 
see him anywhere and it was almost time for the 
train. 

“ He will get on at the Gingham Ground,” Mr. 
Norton told us. “ I wonder if the others are all 
here. There are so many boys here whom we should 
like to take along and they keep moving around so, 
it is hard to tell who is here and who is not. I 
believe I’ll ask the scribe of Raven Patrol to call 


At the Seashore 115 

the roll. When a boy’s name is called he may give 
his number, beginning with number one, and we’ll 
keep those numbers throughout the trip. I intend 
to pin the orders for the day on my tent each morn- 
ing and it will be easier to write that number one 
will wash the dishes than to say that Skinny Miller 
will. Skip number two; we’ll leave that for Jim, 
and Dick will be number three.” 

Skinny groaned at the dishwashing part but 
yelled “ one ” when I called his name. Jim Donavan 
was two; Dick Elmore, three; Bill Wilson, four; 
Frank Barker, five; Benny Wade, six; Hank Bates, 
seven, and John Alexander Smith, which is myself, 
was eight and last. That is what one gets for being 
scribe — always last. 

“The first’s the worst,” I told them, “the 
second’s the same and the last is the best of all 
the game.” 

“ You can wash the dishes first, if you want to, 
Skinny said. “ I’d just as soon.” 

“ I’ll give you my number, too,” Bill told me. 

“ The Tigers don’t care,” said Dick. “ Give him 
ours.” 


At the Seashore 


1 16 

Dick and Frank were Tigers; Jim was an Eagle, 
and the others, Ravens. Just then the whistle 
sounded and our folks made a grab for us to say 
good-by. 

“ Guess what,” exclaimed Benny, just as we were 
climbing on the train. “We dassn’t go. Skinny 
has forgotten his rope.” 

“ Don’t you fool yourself,” Skinny told him. “ I 
sent it along with the camping things. You never 
ought to go away without a rope, fellers, ’specially 
down to the seashore. There will be all kinds of 
chances to rescue folks.” 

The Gingham Ground station was only a mile 
below and we hadn’t much more than started when 
we stopped for Jim. The Eagles were all down to 
see him off, looking as if they would like to go 
along. 

“ Never mind, boys,” Mr. Norton called to them. 
“ We’ll have a lot of fun together when we get back, 
beginning with a campfire. Keep a stiff upper lip; 
your turn will come sometime.” 

At North Adams we changed cars and soon were 
rushing through Hoosac Tunnel; then out again, 


At the Seashore 117 

and twisting around among the mountains, as we 
followed the windings of Deerfield River. 

“ That tunnel is worth knowing about, 1 ” said Mr. 
Norton, when we had come out into the light. 

“ There is only one larger on the continent; in 
fact, in the Western Hemisphere. That one is a 
new tunnel on the Canadian Pacific railroad, through 
one of the Selkirk mountains, which is a quarter of 
a mile longer. They know how to build tunnels 
nowadays better than they did when Hoosac Tunnel 
was built. Connaught Tunnel, as it is called, was 
completed in three years without serious difficulty 
and at reasonable cost, less than six million dollars, 
I understand. Hoosac Tunnel was twenty-four 
years in building. It cost nearly two hundred 
human lives, not to mention fourteen million 
dollar s.” 

A little later he called us around him and pointed 
to a map, spread out on his knees. 

« Perhaps you would like to see where we are 
going to camp,” said he. “ This is a map of Boston 
Harbor. Let your eyes follow south from Boston 
along the coast line. Here, you see, is South Boston, 


ii8 At the Seashore 

and there, farther down, is a peninsula, called 
Squantum. Now, you will notice, the coast begins 
to bear off toward the east and is very irregular. 
Beyond is another peninsula, called Hough’s Neck. 
Do you see it? The map shows an island off the 
end, called Nut Island.” 

“If Bill gets lost,” put in Benny, “we’ll know 
where to look for him, — on Nut Island.” 

We all laughed but Bill didn’t care; he was too 
busy looking at something else and pointing it out 
to Skinny. Then they both swung their arms and 
cheered as loud as they dared, being on a train. 

“ What is it, boys? ” smiled Mr. Norton. 

“ Fishing Ground ! ” they both yelled, so loud that 
all the passengers looked up and laughed. 

“ It says so on the map,” Bill explained. “ Will 
we go fishing? O, no. Maybe not.” 

“ Before you get to the ‘ fishing ground,’ ” Mr. 
Norton told us, “ I want you to look for the biggest 
‘ neck ’ of all. It is a long, narrow peninsula, which 
extends in a northerly direction several miles out 
from the coast line. West of the point is a sort of 
broken-off piece.” 


At the Seashore 


1 19 

“ I see it, fellers,” said Skinny, holding up the 
map and pointing. “ It looks like the left hind leg 
of a grasshopper.” 

“ Well, let me tell you something. There is more 
fun to the square inch in summer time along that 
‘ grasshopper’s left hind leg ’ than anywhere else in 
Massachusetts, always excepting Bob’s Hill and a 
certain cave. That long strip of land forms a bay 
on the land side, where you will find the water warm 
for swimming, and quiet, and where the fishing is 
good, as I shall show you soon after we get there. 

“ Through this back bay come the excursion 
steamboats from Boston to Nantasket Beach and 
various other seashore resorts. They are thick all 
up and down the peninsula, for that is Boston’s 
great summer playground. You will find it only a 
few steps across the strip from the shore on the 
bay side, to the beach, where the ocean rolls and 
tumbles and great waves pour in with a swish and 
roar that I am very anxious to hear once more.” 

“ I’ve heard it,” said Benny. “ We’ve got a big 
shell in our parlor at home and when you put it up 
to your ear you can hear the roaring of the sea.” 


120 


At the Seashore 


“ Is that where we are going to camp, on that 
peninsula?” I asked. 

“ Yes, a friend of mine was kind enough to make 
all the arrangements. He has a summer cottage at 
a beach, called Allerton, near the end of the penin- 
sula. It is about three miles down the shore from 
Nantasket. So many people from Boston and all 
over the country go to Nantasket it will be well for 
us not to camp too near. As it is, we shall be close 
enough to go down there whenever we feel like it, 
listen to the band play in front of the hotel and 
watch the fun.” 

“ How are we going to get down to the camping 
place? ” 

“ We shall take the Nantasket steamboat from 
Boston for a little joy ride down the harbor and get 
off at a landing called Pemberton. From there an 
electric line runs to Allerton and beyond, not far 
from where we shall camp.” 

We reached Boston along in the afternoon and 
took the steamer, just as Mr. Norton had said, along 
with our camping outfit which was waiting for us. 
The air was hot in the city but on the boat there 


At the Seashore 


121 


was a cool breeze. It was great, sailing along 
through the water, with other big boats passing 
and going in and out of the harbor, bands 
playing and great crowds of people out for a 
good time. 

We were almost sorry when the steamboat’s bells 
began to signal to slow down, to back water, and 
other orders, as we glided up to the Pemberton 
landing. Then the boat backed away from the pier 
and started for Nantasket, leaving us standing 
alone, with our things piled up in a heap. It made 
us feel as if we were a long way from home. 

“ Now, boys,” said Mr. Norton, “ we must ar- 
range to get these things taken over to Allerton as 
quickly as possible. It is not far.” 

“ What time is it? ” somebody asked, when finally 
our stuff had been landed at Allerton station and 
we had carried it over to a sandy spot between the 
electric railroad and the ocean. There was a hill 
close by, green like Bob’s Hill, and it made us feel 
at home right away. We found afterward that 
sometimes it is called Green Hill. 

“ It’s time to eat,” said Skinny. “ I can tell with- 


122 At the Seashore 

out looking at my watch or asking questions. I’m a 

mind reader.” 

“ Stomach reader, you’d better say,” Frank told 
him. 

“ Well, they are the same thing, anyhow, about 
this time of the day, down at the seashore.” 

We looked to see what our Scoutmaster thought 
about it. “ Dick,” said he, “ suppose that you and 
Frank pry open this box and see if there is anything 
inside that is good to eat. Skinny, we shall look 
to the Ravens to get a fire started. You fellows 
are pretty good at ‘ starting things,’ I have noticed. 
Jim, see if you can find a pail. You and I will 
hunt up my friend’s cottage and get some drinking 
water. There will be time enough to set up our 
sleeping tents after we have had supper. We’ll not 
try to get settled before to-morrow.” 

After we had eaten and had put up the tents to 
sleep in, we sat for a long time on the sandy beach, 
sniffing in the salt air and watching the waves roll 
in with a noise like Peck’s Falls. One by one the 
stars came out to welcome us and lights began to 
show up and down the harbor and along the shore. 


At the Seashore 


123 

Mr. Norton pointed out the different ones and told 
us what they were. 

To the south we could see Minot’s light, which 
stands on one of the most dangerous ledges along 
the Atlantic coast. In front, about ten miles, was 
the Lightship. Far to the north, when it had grown 
darker, we could see the Twin lights on Thatcher’s 
island, and toward the west, near the Nahant shore 
above Boston, Egg Rock light. 

“ The nearest one is winking at us,” said Dick. 
“ It doesn’t shine all the time but goes out and comes 
again. What light is that ? ” 

“ That is called Boston light,” Mr. Norton ex- 
plained. It stands on Brewster’s island and marks 
the main ship channel to and from Boston. It is 
a revolving light; that is what makes it seem to 
wink. The light stands nearly one hundred feet 
above the water and it can be seen sixteen miles in 
clear weather.” 

“ What do they do when it is foggy? ” 

“ When the time comes you will not have to ask 
that question. A steam foghorn is blown and the 
sound can be heard for miles. Sailors listen for that 


At the Seashore 


124 

foghorn and when they hear it they know how to 
shape their course.” 

We were not any of us sleepy when Mr. Norton 
finally said that it was time to turn in and for us 
not to talk after we had gone to bed, because we 
had a busy day ahead of us and would need plenty 
of sleep. 

As I lay there in the tent, listening to the sound 
of the waves, I almost could think that we were in 
the cave at home, with Peck’s Falls roaring outside. 
Only yesterday we had said good-by to Bob’s Hill 
and Greylock and our folks. It seemed much longer 
than that. Here we were far from home, down 
at the seashore, and not a sound anywhere 
except always that roaring and washing of the 
waters. 

It seemed sort of scary in the dark and I reached 
over and touched Skinny, to make sure he was really 
there and I was not dreaming. He caught hold of 
my hand and closed my fingers around something 
which lay close to his head, where he could get hold 
of it any minute. 

“ Betcher life I brought my rope along,” he whis- 


At the Seashore 125 

pered. “ Pedro, don’t you ever go anywhere with- 
out a rope.” 

The noise of the sea was the last thing that we 
heard before dropping off to sleep and it was the 
first thing we heard in the morning. When I 
opened my eyes, the sun was shining. Swish — roar, 
went the waves. I couldn’t understand it at first, 
or think where I was. Then Mr. Norton looked 
into the tent and held up a string of fish which he 
had caught in the bay. It didn’t take us long to 
get up after that. 

“Aw, why didn’t you let us go along?” said 
Bill. 

“You boys were sleeping so soundly I thought 
it best not to disturb you. Before we go home you 
will get all the fishing you want. Meanwhile, how 
will these fellows go for breakfast?” 

We were busy most of that day, making camp 
and putting our things in order. That was fun, 
too, but the big fun came later. As Mr. Norton 
said, we had plenty of fishing; but it was in the 
bay and was too tame to suit us. What we wanted 
was to do some real fishing out in the ocean. 


126 


At the Seashore 


“ If that is the case,” said our Scoutmaster, when 
we had told him about it, “ you will need a real 
skipper to take you out; I know just the man. 
There are too many of you for one boat; you will 
have to take turns. Four of you may go to-morrow, 
if I can make the necessary arrangements, and the 
other four, some other day. You decide which four 
are going first while I do a little scouting outside.” 

In about an hour he came back and with him was 
a weather-beaten, whiskery man, who we knew at 
once must be the skipper. 


CHAPTER X 


CAP’n JAKE AND THE SEA SERPENT 

« J — ALLOWS,” said Mr. Norton, “ I want you 
J/ to meet Cap’n Jake. That is what every- 
body calls him around here. He is owner, skipper, 
and crew of a famous catboat and dory. Cap’n, 
these are the lads I told you about. They are the 
best boys you ever saw— when they are asleep. The 
trouble is they never want to go to bed.” 

A hoarse rumble came from Cap’n Jake s whisk- 
ers somewhere, although we couldn t see his lips 
move, and he held out a great hand which each of 
us shook in turn. 

“ These boys,” Mr. Norton went on, “have 
heard so many stories about the good fishing over 
near Harding’s Ledge, they want to try their luck. 

“ Greatest place to fish in the world,” rumbled the 
skipper. “ They bite like sixty but sometimes more 

so than others. Had to stand in the boat with a 
127 


128 Cap’n Jake and the Sea Serpent 

club t’other day to keep ’em from bitin’ the pas- 
sengers.” 

“ Great snakes ! ” exclaimed Bill. “ And us 
a-fishin’ for perch in the bay ! ” 

“ Can we catch big ones, Cap’n Jake?” asked 
Skinny. 

“ Wall, not so very. You can’t often get a cod 
out there that weighs more’n twenty to twenty-five 
pound, but they make good eatin’, even if they are 
small. Once in a while, though, you can catch a 
real fish. Hooked one myself last week, just as a 
sudden squall was drivin’ my dory on the rocks. 
Best dory on the coast and didn’t want to lose her, 
but thought I was goin’ to be wrecked sure.” 

“ Were you wrecked ? ” said Skinny, his eyes be- 
ginning to stick out like saucers. 

“ Nope; not so’s you would notice it. Might 
have been, mebbe, if it hadn’t been for that fish. 
When he felt the hook he struck out for deep water 
and hauled me away from the rocks. Yes, sir; 
that’s what he done. The dory pulled easy after he 
got her started. I kept him goin’ by yankin’ on the 
line with one hand every time he slowed down and 


Cap’ll Jake and the Sea Serpent 129 

steered the boat with t’other. We landed on Aller- 
ton beach just afore the rain, which was dummed 
lucky for me for I didn’t have any umbrell. 

Bill heaved a great sigh and went through the 
motions of yelling. 

“What did you do with the fish?” he asked, as 
soon as he could speak. 

“ The fish ? When I got ashore I cut the line and 
let the critter go. You see, when a fish has saved 
you from shipwreck, so to speak, you hate like sixty 
to eat him up. It don’t seem like a square deal.” 

“ This time it would have been a square meal, 
anyhow,” said Mr. Norton, with his eyes twinkling. 
“ That was some fish.” 

“ Which of you boys are going in the morning? ” 
he asked, turning to us. 

“ We drew cuts,” I told him. “ Skinny, Bill, Jim, 
and I held the lucky numbers.” 

A heavy surf was breaking on the shore the next 
morning when we four took our places in the dory 
and Cap’n Jake shoved off. There had been a 
strong east wind during the night but now there 
was hardly a breath of air stirring. The Swamp- 


130 Cap’n Jake and the Sea Serpent 

scott dory was a flat-bottomed boat, with high, flar- 
ing sides, which the skipper told us could outride 
anything that blew. 

“ I know how to row,” began Skinny, after we 
were well started. “ I was the best rower on Long 
lake that time out in Indiana. Wasn’t I, fellers?” 

“ Aw, you can’t row any better than we can,” Bill 
told him. 

“ I’ll show you whether I can or not, if Cap’n 
Jake will let us.” 

We all wanted to try but we didn’t think he 
would do it because the boat was being tossed 
around a great deal by the waves. 

“ Why, sure,” said he. “ You can row all you 
want to. Here, each of you take an oar and I’ll 
steer. Let’s see what you can do.” 

Say, if you ever feel like rowing to Harding’s 
Ledge against a heavy swell, forget it, fish or no 
fish. The swell was bad enough and to make mat- 
ters worse there was a current, called a cross tide. 

I heard another rumble from the whiskers as 
Cap’n Jake took up his steering oar and told us to 
go ahead. Rowing on a little lake without a ripple 


Cap’n Jake and the Sea Serpent 13 1 

is different from rowing on the ocean against a 
heavy swell, with the boat going up one hill after 
another and down on the other side. Every once 
in a while, when we’d dip our oars in for a fearful 
pull, there wouldn’t be any water there and we d 
fall over backward on our heads. 

The way the boat was pointed we didn’t go 
straight across the swells but in a slanting direction, 
with a pitch and a roll, as we climbed to the top 
and then slid down into the trough of the sea, that 
gave us a queer feeling in the pit of the stomach. 

“ Great snakes! ” I heard Bill saying to himself. 

“ I wish I hadn’t come.” 

I felt so badly myself that I turned around to 
see how Skinny was standing it. He was sick; it 
was easy to see that. His cheeks were pale, although 
he was working hard, and he was wetting his lips 
with his tongue. 

“ I don’t feel just right,” he groaned, when he 
saw me looking at him. “Something awful ails 
me. Do you think it is safe out here, Cap’n, with 
the water so rough ? ” 

“ Sure. This is 


nothin’. But mebby we’d 


132 Cap’n Jake and the Sea Serpent 

get along faster if you’d all pull t’oncet, instead of 
one at a time. We won’t roll so much when we 
get to leeward of the ledge.” 

I guess I must have looked sick and wobbly, my- 
self, for Bill, with his face as white as chalk and 
his eyes full of pain, leaned over and spoke to me. 

“ Stick, Pedro,” said he. “ Maybe we don’t know 
how to row but we’ll show this skipper guy that 
we are game.” 

I’d rather have lain down in the bottom of the 
dory, not caring what would happen next, but when 
Bill said that I ground my teeth together and pulled 
until I was dizzy. 

Skinny says that if I tell all that happened on 
that trip I must write it in invisible ink. Anyhow, 
we got there at last, more dead than alive. After 
the skipper had found a good place to anchor, we 
began to feel a little better, although not much like 
fishing. 

Harding’s Ledge is about three miles from Aller- 
ton beach and is in line with Boston and Minot’s 
lights. The tide was going out and the tops of some 
of the rocks were showing but at high tide they 


Cap’n Jake and the Sea Serpent 133 

are all under water. This is one of the most danger- 
ous places on all the coast during a fog or gale, 
Cap’n Jake told us. 

On one of the rocks they have built a beacon, a 
cube-like thing made of iron slats, about three feet 
each way and raised about twenty-five feet above 
the water on steel rods. Five hundred to six hun- 
dred feet east of it is a bell buoy, anchored fast. 
There is a deep-toned bell on it, which is rung by 
the motion of the waves. The sound can be heard 
above the noise of surf and wind. Between the 
beacon and buoy is where the smaller steamers go 
on the way to Plymouth and Provincetown but the 
main channel for ocean boats is to the north and 
east of Harding’s. 

We didn’t find all this out until afterward. We 
didn’t care anything about it at that time and 
wouldn’t have cared if all the fish in the ocean had 
been packed in between the buoy and the beacon, 
waiting to bite. That is the way we felt at first, 
while Cap’n Jake was getting out lines and bait. 

“ I’ll bet there ain’t a fish in four miles of here,” 
grumbled Skinny, as he let his line over the side 


134 Cap’n Jake and the Sea Serpent 

of the dory. “ Where’s the fun in fishin’ without 
a pole, anyhow? 

He hadn’t any more than got the words out of 
his mouth when I saw him stiffen and his line start 
away from the boat. The rest of us were so inter- 
ested watching him that we didn’t throw in. 

“ Gee-whillikins, fellers ! ” he yelled. “ It takes 
me to catch ’em. I’ll bet I’ve got a whale. Is the 
boat anchored all right, Cap’n Jake? He’s starting 
for the beach.” 

“ Yep,” rumbled the skipper, looking at the 
anchor line. “ She’s holdin’ fust rate but pull him 
in easy-like, so’s not to start her.” 

Skinny had to put up a good fight to land his 
fish but finally pulled it over the side of the boat. 

“ Heave him overboard ! ” ordered the skipper. 

We didn’t know at first whether he meant Skinny 
or the fish and were not going to do it, anyhow, 
because what’s the use of heaving a fish overboard 
after you have managed to catch him? But the 
skipper reached over and threw the fish into the 
water. It made us mad. 

“ What was it, a shark ? ” asked Skinny. 


Cap’n Jake and the Sea Serpent 135 

“Nope; sculpin.” 

After that we all threw our lines in and soon 
there was a fast growing pile of fishes flopping 
around in the bottom of the boat. It was great fun. 

“ Now I’ll show you somethin’,” said the skipper, 
after we had begun to get tired. 

He rigged a net with an iron hoop about four 
feet across and a piece of mackerel seine, fastened 
loose so that it bagged about a foot. Three ropes 
were fastened to the hoop, meeting in the middle 
above it, and to the ends of these ropes he tied a 
long line, to be used for hauling in the net. Then 
he baited and ballasted the net and lowered it over 
the stern to the bottom. In about ten minutes he 
pulled it up loaded with fish. 

The skipper heaved overboard three sculpins and 
two fine, large fish which were shaped like mackerel. 
Those which he saved, he told us, were sea perch 
and tomcod. 

“ You threw over the best ones,” Jim complained. 
“ What made you throw over the two big fellows? ” 

‘‘Them’s polluck,” he explained. “They spile 
quick after they come out of the water. 


136 Cap’n Jake and the Sea Serpent 

Before we could ask any more questions there 
came a yell from Bill. 

“I’m snagged!” he cried. “No; it’s a fish.” 

" Keep him cornin’,” called Cap’n Jake. “ Not 
too fast.” 

He made his way forward just in time to see a 
pair of big, wide open jaws break out of the water. 

“ Great snakes ! ” shouted Bill, dancing around, he 
was so excited. “ What is it? ” 

The skipper didn’t stop to talk. He grabbed the 
line with one hand; then reached over the gun’l 
with the other, caught the big fellow by the gills 
and hauled him in. 

“ Twenty-five pound cod,” he told us. 

“ Twenty-five pound nothin’ ! ” said Bill, hold- 
ing the fish down for fear it would flop out of the 
boat. “He weighs a hundred; I ’most know he 
does.” 

We were so busy watching Bill that we didn’t 
notice what Skinny was up to. When the skipper 
went forward to help Bill, Skinny was left alone 
with the net and he started to pull it in. As he did 
so, something began to kick and yank until he hardly 


Cap’n Jake and the Sea Serpent 137 

could hang on to the rope. It took all the strength 
he had but finally he managed to pull the net to the 
top of the water. 

Startled by a shriek from Skinny, we looked and 
saw a monster fish, much longer than the net was 
across, jumping around fearfully and lashing the 
surface of the water into foam. 

“ Let ’er go, you lubber ! Let go ! ” yelled the 
skipper. 

But Skinny never lets go. He isn’t built that 
way. He hung on, wild eyed and scared, until finally 
the monster poked his head through the net and 
sank out of sight. 

It was a mackerel shark and if Skinny had let go 
the line when the skipper told him to, it would have 
saved the net. 

I am not going to put in what Cap’n Jake said 
when he found that his net was ruined. We didn’t 
hear much of it, anyhow, because while he was 
talking Bill slowly arose from his seat, pale and 
open-mouthed, and stood staring with wild eyes 
toward Nantasket. He didn’t make a sound and 
I knew that something terrible must have happened. 


138 Cap’n Jake and the Sea Serpent 

“ What’s the matter, Bill? ” we shouted. 

He raised one arm and pointed a shaking fore- 
finger. 

“ Sea serpent ! ” 

We looked, and a half mile away, coming swiftly 
toward us, was the sea serpent. It seemed a hun- 
dred feet long and as big as a barrel. The skipper 
was too busy with his broken net to notice anything 
else but we saw it, and it scared us half out of our 
wits. 

On came the horrible monster, headed straight 
for the boat. We gave ourselves up for lost ; then it 
turned a little and, as we looked, the terrible body 
broke up into eight pieces, each piece rolling and 
tumbling at a great rate. 

Skinny was the first to come to his senses. 

“ Whales ! ” he yelled. " Cap’n Jake, where’s 
your harpoon ? ” 

“ Whales? Whales? ” rumbled the skipper, look- 
ing up at last. “ Why, you — you — them’s por- 
poises.” 

Before we could say anything more, a sudden 
change came over him and he made a quick grab 


Cap’n Jake and the Sea Serpent 139 

for the anchor rope. What had happened, he told 
us afterward, was that where he sat, facing south, 
he could feel a slight chill on his left cheek. It 
didn’t mean anything to us but it did to him. To 
the eastward there was a slight ruffling of the water 
and beyond that, fog. He knew that the thing to 
do was to get out of there in a hurry. By the time 
the anchor was up we could feel puffs of east wind. 

The boys took the same seats as before to row 
back but Cap’n Jake wouldn’t have it that way. 

“ Here, two of you come for’ud and set,” he said, 
“ and two go aft and set.” 

He himself sat amidships and with long, strong 
pulls, started for somewhere but we couldn’t tell 
where, for the fog now was all around us. We knew 
that we were clear of the rocks and that was all 
except that back of us we could hear the ringing of 
the bell buoy. 

Then the fog horn at Boston light began to 
sound. The wind stiffened until it seemed to us 
boys to be blowing a gale. We were afraid that 
the great waves would swallow us up but Cap’n 
Jake pulled steadily and without a word, keeping 


140 Cap’n Jake and the Sea Serpent 

the bell astern and shaping his course by the sound 
of the fog horn. 

It was low tide when we grounded on the long 
beach, sloping gently up to low-water mark. The 
shallow water was fairly boiling with the fury of the 
wind and was lashed into foam but not a drop had 
come into the boat except the flying spray. 

We found Mr. Norton and the boys waiting for 
us and growing anxious on account of the wind and 
fog. It surprised them when they saw all the fish. 

“ That’s nothing,” said Skinny. “ You ought to 
have seen the big shark that I caught; but it got 
away.” 

“ Something tells me,” exclaimed Mr. Norton, 
“ that we are going to have a big fish dinner to-day. 
We should like very much to have Cap’n Jake stay 
and help us eat it and let us thank him for taking 
such good care of these boys.” 

There came a rumbling from Cap’n Jake’s whisk- 
ers. “ They’ll be ready to go to bed to-night,” he 
said. 


CHAPTER XI 


CAMPFIRE ON THE BEACH 

FTER that until the Fourth of July we put 



in most of our time practising Scout stunts, 


fishing in the bay, or chasing up and down the 
beach and teaching the Tigers the things they had 
to learn before they could become First Class 
Scouts. 

There was dish washing to do, and cooking but, 
as Mr. Norton said, many hands make light work. 
Besides, we made the Tigers do a lot of it. You 
see, they were just learning to be Scouts and it was 
good practice for them. 

Later, Cap’n Jake took the other four boys out 
fishing but not until after the Fourth. Once we all 
went out in his Cape catboat and had all kinds of 
fun. It was a wonderful boat, Cap’n Jake told us. 

“ You’ve heerd of the ‘ Harpoon ’ of Quincy, ’s 
likely’s not? ” he said. " What, never heerd of the 


142 Campfire on the Beach 

‘ Harpoon ’ ? Where have you been livin’, anyhow ? 
She was owned by the Adams boys of Quincy and 
was the best boat in these parts except one. My 
cat could outpoint and outfoot her every time, and 
don’t you forget it.” 

On the night of July 3 we had a big campfire on 
Allerton beach. It was wonderful, sitting there 
under the stars, with great ocean waves rolling in 
toward us, snarling and showing their teeth but 
not able to reach us, like a bull pup tied to a chain. 
Up and down the beach shone the lights of many 
resorts and cottages, while out in the darkness of 
the night sometimes a great boat would pass, all 
ablaze with lights and with a band playing on the 
deck. 

We sat still a long time without saying a word. 
Finally, Mr. Norton seemed to shake himself out of 
a dream and threw on another log. 

“ To-morrow will be our day, fellows,” said he, 
“ and we must make the most of it. Christmas 
belongs to the world; so does New Year’s. They 
are great days. But July 4 belongs to the United 
States and, more particularly, to Young America.” 


Campfire on the Beach 143 

“ We bought a lot of firecrackers and things up in 
the city to-day,” Benny told him. “ They’ll know 
that we are around to-morrow.” 

“ That is all right, if you do not carry it too far. 
A reasonable amount of noise and fireworks and 
fun seems inseparable from the day; but you and 
I are going to celebrate in a way that we never 
celebrated before. We are going up to Bunker Hill 
Monument and Boston Common and Old Faneuil 
Hall. They are among the sacred places in Ameri- 
can history. I think that to-night it would be a good 
idea for us to talk it over and find out, if we can, 
why we propose to celebrate the Fourth. What is 
all this fuss about, anyhow, Skinny?” 

He stood up and folded his arms. “ They waited 
until they could see the whites of the enemy’s eyes,” 
he began; ‘'then ” 

“Yes, we’ve heard you mention something to 
that effect before,” laughed Mr. Norton. “ I know 
that the fighting part appeals to a boy and to the 
savage in all of us, but, surely, so much celebrating 
is not because a handful of American farmers held 
their own against the best trained soldiers of 


144 Campfire on the Beach 

Europe, until their powder gave out; then beat an 
honorable retreat. That was a great deal to do and 
it wrote a new page in our country’s history, but it 
surely isn’t why we celebrate.” 

“ It’s why I do,” said Skinny. “ Maybe I never 
told you, but I had a lot of folks in that battle and 
one of them was killed. We’ve got his old gun at 
home over the mantlepiece.” 

“ Skinny is such an incorrigible patriot, I am 
afraid we never shall get him away from Bunker 
Hill back to Bob’s Hill. Jim, can you tell us why 
we celebrate the Fourth of July? ” 

“ The Declaration of Independence was signed 
that day in Philadelphia.” 

“ Yes, sir,” broke in Benny. “ And the old bell 
ringer in the steeple when he heard of it rang Lib- 
erty Bell to beat the band, so that everybody would 
know that they had signed. I’ve seen the bell; it’s 
cracked. Then all the people rejoiced and shot off 
firecrackers and pistols and carried on like crazy 
folks.” 

“ And we have been carrying on like crazy folks 
every Fourth of July since that time?” 


Campfire on the Beach 145 

“ Yes, sir; somebody has. I haven’t because I’m 
not very old yet, but I’ve done a lot of it.” 

“ Pooh ! ” said Skinny. “ I knew all that but, 
betcher life, it didn’t happen until after the fight 
on Bunker Hill.” 

“But why make such a fuss about signing a 
paper? ” asked Mr. Norton. “ Or about separating 
from England? England is a great nation and has 
a glorious history. She has made mistakes, and her 
treatment of her American colonies was one of the 
biggest of them, but every nation and every person 
makes mistakes some times. A nation is made up 
of people like you and me, and people are far from 
perfect. The trouble with England was not her 
people, however, it was the folly of her king. We 
should have a right to feel proud were we a part of 
the British Empire to-day.” 

“ Why, Mr. Norton ! ” began Skinny, so sur- 
prised he hardly could speak. 

“ Of course, we are much more proud of 
being what we are; but why? That is what I 
am trying to get at. There must be a reason for 
everything.” 


146 Campfire on the Beach 

“ The Fourth of July is our country’s birthday,” 
said Bill. 

“Yes; that, of course, is the immediate reason 
why we celebrate. In that old hall in Philadelphia, 
on July 4, 1776, this great Nation was born. Do 
you know, I think that next to Christmas, which 
celebrates the birth of Christ, July Fourth is the 
greatest date in all history and ought to be cele- 
brated by the common people of all nations, England 
even, as well as America ? A bigger and better thing 
than the American Nation was born on that day. 
July 4, 1776, was the birthday of Liberty. The 
right of the people to govern themselves was born 
on that day. 

“ If the people of the American colonies had not 
been Englishmen, possibly England might have been 
able to put across her mistaken policies; but they 
were English, most of them, and love for liberty 
had been growing in the minds of Englishmen for 
many years. They even had held up King John, 
you will remember, and forced him to sign 
what was called Magna Charta — the great 
charter — giving them more liberties under the 


Campfire on the Beach 147 

government. That was another great day in 
history.” 

“ They still have a king in England,” I said. 

“Yes; but he doesn’t begin to have the power 
which is given to the President of the United States. 
In this country, away from kings and emperors, the 
idea took firmer root that just because certain people 
happened to be born into certain families was no 
reason why they should be permitted to rule and 
lord it over everybody else. They believed that 
people who happened to be born in other families 
had the same right to say what should be done with 
their property, their country and themselves. 

Skinny was getting on his feet again; we tried 
to grab him but he slipped away from us. 

“We hold these truths to be self-evident,” he 
recited, “that all men are created equal; that they 
are endowed by their Creator with certain inaliena- 
ble rights.” 

“ That is the way the Declaration of Independence 
expresses it. Of course, it does not mean that all 
men are created with equal abilities, because they 
are not. It does not mean that all men are created 


148 Campfire on the Beach 

with equal opportunities. I am sorry to say that 
they are not at the present time, although it may 
come true some day. It means that you and I, the 
Eagles, the Tigers, the Ravens, all the people, 
whether rich or poor, great or lowly, wise or unedu- 
cated, are equal before the law. That by right 
there cannot be one law for me and another for 
my neighbor, or some one less fortunate, any more 
than in school there can be one rule for you and 
another for another set of boys, or that in your ball 
games there can be one set of rules for your nine 
and another for the team against which you are 
playing” 

“ Great snakes ! ” exclaimed Bill. “ There would 
be something doing if they did that.” 

“ In the same way there was ‘ something doing ’ 
in 1776. That was a great principle to establish 
and while it doesn’t always work out in fact even 
now and there is room for much improvement and 
growth, the day that saw the people of America 
successfully establish that principle was one of the 
greatest days in the history of the world and prop- 
erly might be celebrated by the people of every 


Campfire on the Beach 149 

nation. It is a principle which we should be willing 
to fight for and defend with our lives against the 
whole world, if need be. ,, 

Bang! went a big firecracker; then a whole bunch. 
Skinny jumped and began to dance around the fire, 
we after him, chanting Indian talk and shaking 
clubs. Louder and louder grew the singing and 
faster and faster, the dance, until Bill couldn’t stand 
it any longer. He leaped into the air and cracked 
his heels together; then stood on his hands and 
kicked, while we pranced around him, giving the 
most awful yells you ever heard. 

Skinny grabbed a board and paddled him where it 
would do the most good, to give him something to 
yell about; but before the rest of us could do the 
same Bill bounded to his feet and in a second there 
was a free-for-all scrap, with everybody grabbing 
at everybody else and trying to drag him down the 
beach into the water. One after another we stopped 
to watch Skinny and Bill. They had clinched, 
halfway to the water, each one trying to push 
the other in and each one finding the other too 
strong. 


i^o Campfire on the Beach 

“ Come on, boys,” whispered Hank, motioning 
with his arms. “ Now. All together ! ” 

We made a rush and ran them both into the 
ocean but before we could get away again a great 
wave rolled up and splashed around our feet, half- 
way to our knees. 

“ I guess the country is safe,” laughed Mr. 
Norton, when we had scrambled out again and up 
on the beach. “ I am wondering what they thought 
over in England when they heard William yell.” 

Bill opened his mouth and was going to do it 
again but we grabbed him and would have thrown 
him into the water once more if he hadn’t stopped. 
We were afraid somebody would get after us. 
Bill’s yell is awful. 


CHAPTER XII 


BUNKER HILL 

F OURTH of July is different down at the sea- 
shore. At home, if we do not awaken earlier, 
we get up when the church bells begin to ring at four 
o’clock in the morning. Bang! goes the cannon on 
Bob’s Hill, dragged up there the night before. 
Ding-dong, ding-dong, go the church bells. Out of 
bed we jump without being called, which it is hard 
to do any other day except Christmas, fumbling 
with our shoes in the half darkness; then hustle out 
and away, firing crackers as we run and sniffing in 
the smell of burning powder. It’s great. 

But down on the beach there were no church bells 
to ring and not many folks at that time of day to 
hear them ; nothing but water as far as we could see, 
and farther, and sand all around. 

I was lying in the tent, sort of half asleep and 
thinking of the bells ringing back home and how 


Bunker Hill 


152 

quiet it was at the beach except the noise of the sea, 
when rattle, bang, biff, boom, went a whole bunch 
of firecrackers right in the middle of the tent, with 
us boys rolling over to get out of the way and 
Skinny’s laughing face looking in from the outside. 

Some one threw a shoe at him; then out we 
rushed into the morning and after slipping into our 
bathing suits ran down the beach for a plunge into 
the ocean, splashing around like so many fishes. 
Those morning swims were the most fun of all. 
Ocean water is colder than at the Basin even but 
after you’ve ducked it’s fine, and easy to swim in on 
account of the salt. 

At breakfast Skinny was strangely quiet and 
seemed to be thinking about something. Soon after 
we had finished eating I missed him but didn’t say 
anything about it because it wasn’t his turn to help 
with the dishes and I was too busy. 

We were just getting through with the work 
when Benny came running up, all excited, and 
dragged us out to where the sand was as smooth as 
a floor and hard packed. Then we began to get 
excited, too, for there on the sand was the Sign, as 


Bunker Hill 


153 

big as life, and it said for us to meet at the cave 
right away. We’d hardly have had time to get 
there even if we had known where it was. 

We all stood around looking except Skinny. 
Nobody knew where he was but we felt sure that he 
had drawn the Sign. 

“ Skinny is crazy,” said Bill at last, “ to talk about 
caves where there isn’t anything but sand.” 

“ It says to meet at the cave, all right,” Benny 
told him, “ and the Sign never lies.” 

“ Show us the cave, then. We are ready to 
meet.” 

For answer Benny, who had been looking around, 
pointed to a big arrow which had been drawn in the 
sand a little farther down the beach. Above the 
arrow were two birds and below, a tiger. Anyhow, 
it looked some like a tiger and Benny said that it 
had to be a tiger because it wasn’t anything else. 

We knew then that Skinny, the Raven, had shown 
us the way to go to find the cave and had drawn 
an eagle and a tiger besides a crow, so as to be 
polite to the boys of the other patrols. 

We could see the prints of his feet, where he had 


Bunker Hill 


1 54 

chased down the beach, and didn’t need the arrows 
which we found all along. Finally, after winding 
around back and forth two or three times, we came 
to another Sign and a bigger arrow pointing straight 
into the ocean. The footprints, too, turned and led 
down the slant of the beach into the water and out 
of sight under the great waves, which came rolling 
toward us, showing their teeth, until with a roar 
they foamed up over the sand to our feet; then ran 
back again as if to get a better start. 

“ Great snakes ! ” said Bill. “ Skinny has started 
to walk across.” 

“ Maybe he has found a cave out there somewhere 
by diving down,” Hank thought. 

“ It must be a long way out, then,” I told him. 
“ You can wade, I don’t know how far.” 

We looked across the water, half expecting to 
see Skinny swimming out there, or beckoning to us 
with only his head in sight, but we could see nothing 
except a big boat of some kind steaming toward 
Boston. 

“ He is fooling us,” said Jim. “ He must have 
waded in and then come out again farther up or 


Bunker Hill 155 

down the beach, in order to throw us off the track.” 

“ No,” Hank told us. “ It’s the tide. Don’t you 
see? The tide is coming in and has covered the 
trail. It will cover us, too, if we don’t move pretty 
soon.” 

“ Hank is right,” Bill decided. “ We must find 
where he turned back from the water. Part of us 
can go one way and part the other, until we strike 
the trail again.” 

That sounded like good sense and we tried it. 
Dick’s party found the tracks leading up out of the 
water about a quarter of a mile down the beach. 
From there it was easy and pretty soon we came to 
where the tracks stopped and an arrow pointed to a 
big mound of sand. 

“ Open seezum ! ” said Bill, hitting the mound a 
whack with his stick. 

On the other side, in a little cave which he had 
built up and scooped out of the sand, we found 
Skinny waiting for us. 

“ This ain’t much of a cave,” he said, when we 
had thrown ourselves down on the sand beside him, 
“ but it will do; only we’ll have to hold the meetin’ 


1^6 Bunker Hill 

right away before the tide gets here. I was afraid 

that you wouldn’t come in time.” 

Bill lighted a big firecracker and threw it at the 
ocean \ then stood on his hands, kicked his feet 
toward the water and whistled through his teeth. 
That was what we all thought as we gathered 
around Skinny to find out what the meeting was 
about and hear what he had to say. 

“ Fellers,” said he, after the scribe had called the 
roll and everybody had answered according to what 
patrol he belonged to, some cawing like crows, some 
roaring like tigers, and Jim screaming like an eagle, 
or like something that sounded fierce. 

“ Fellers, this is the Fourth of July, the greatest 
day in the year. It’s up to us to do something, after 
what Mr. Norton said last night. Back over there 
is Boston, the Cradle of Liberty. I’ve been trying 
to think what to do to let ’em know that we are here 
and that we love our country.” 

“ If you can’t think of it, Skinny,” broke in Hank, 
“ there is no use in us trying.” 

“ Cradle of Liberty is it?” put in Benny. 
“ What’s the matter with rocking the cradle? ” 


Bunker Hill 157 

“ You said it that time, boy,” shouted Skinny. 
“ We’ve got to do something big, I tell you; some- 
thing that will jar ’em and make ’em think what it 
means to live in the United States of America, like 
Mr. Norton said. It must be something more than 
firecrackers. Everybody will be firing them. 
They’ll expect that.” 

“ We might all go down to Bunker Hill Monu- 
ment and fire a salute,” said Dick. 

“ Of course we’ll do that. I’ve got to do it be- 
cause thirteen of my ancestors, counting all their 
folks that were there, were in the battle, and one of 
them was killed.” 

“ Thirteen is an unlucky number,” said Jim, 
shaking his head. “ It’s a wonder that more of em 
were not killed; but, of course, as soon as one had 
been killed there were only twelve left.” 

“ They didn’t stop to think about unlucky num- 
bers. They were too busy watching for the whites 
of the enemy’s eyes.” 

“ Well, what have you thought of?” 

For answer, Skinny stood up, folded his arms 
and began his school piece : 


Bunker Hill 


158 

“Listen, my children, and you shall hear 
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, 

On the eighteenth of April, in seventy-five, 

Hardly a man is now alive 

Who remembers that famous day and year ” 

“ This isn’t the eighteenth of April ; it’s the 
Fourth of July.” 

“That doesn’t matter; it makes it all the bet- 
ter.” 

“ Great snakes, Skinny,” began Bill ; “ do you 
mean ” 

“ Betcher life I do. Say, it will surprise ’em 
some when they see a lantern hanging in the steeple 
of the old North church, just like Paul Revere saw 
it back there in 1775. I’ll bet that nobody has hung 
a lantern there since that time and it was more than 
a hundred years ago. It’s a shame. They ought 
to do it every year.” 

“ I think there were two lanterns,” I told him. 
“ What does your piece say about it? ” 

Skinny thought a minute, saying over the verses 
to himself until he came to the part about the signal; 
then he went on out loud, 


Bunker Hill 


159 


“ He said to his friend, ‘ If the British march 
By land or sea from town to-night, 

Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch 
Of the North church tower, as a signal light, 
One if by land and two if by sea ” 

“ Two,” he told us, “ for they started in boats. 
I read it in a book; besides, the piece says so farther 
on. 

“ Maybe we can find where Paul Revere used to 
live,” said Benny, “ and borrow his lanterns.” 

When he said that we all patted him on the back 
so hard it most knocked his breath out. 

“That is a very brilliant idea,” laughed Mr. 
Norton, when we told him about it afterward. 
“ There is only one thing the matter with it. Old 
North church was burned by the British for fire- 
wood during the siege of Boston. It stood in North 
square where the soldiers were quartered.” 

My, but Skinny was mad when he heard that. 
“Burnt it!” he exclaimed. “For firewood! 
Say, it was lucky for them that the Band wasn’t 
there — I mean the patrol.” 

“ Paul Revere’s house is still standing, I believe, 


i6o 


Bunker Hill 


in the same old square. It used to be the choice 
part of Boston but now is the center of the Italian 
district. In the evening after the Boston massacre 
Revere displayed some pictures of the massacre in 
the upper windows, that did much to arouse the 
people. ,, 

“ However/’ Mr. Norton went on, when he saw 
how badly we felt about the British having burned 
the old church, “ historians and poets do not always 
agree. It is true that Longfellow’s poem says that 
the signal lanterns were hung in the tower of old 
North church and some historians say the same; 
but there is a tablet on the tower front of Christ 
church in Salem street which says, without any ifs 
or ands about it, that the Paul Revere signal lanterns 
were displayed there. We’ll have a look at it when 
we go up to the city.” 

Skinny’s face beamed when he heard that and I 
knew that there would be something doing in the 
lantern business before we came back. 

“ How are you going to manage it ? ” I whispered. 

“ Leave it to me,” he said, “ and mum’s the 


word.” 


Bunker Hill i6x 

We took the boat for Boston a little later and 
there was so much to see and do that we soon for- 
got about the lanterns, all but Skinny. He was car- 
rying a queer shaped package. We wondered what 
it was at the start; then had something else to think 
about. 

“ I suppose that the first place to visit is Bunker 
Hill Monument,” suggested Mr. Norton, winking 
at me. “ I am sorry that it stands on Breed’s Hill 
instead of Bunker Hill but that is not my fault. 
The battle was fought there. ,, 

It gave us a queer feeling, a little later, when we 
had reached Charlestown and were looking up at 
the tall shaft, to think of how a few brave Ameri- 
cans, so long ago, stood out there against trained 
soldiers until they didn’t have any more powder. 

“ They couldn’t do it now,” Mr. Norton told us. 
“The methods of warfare have changed and un- 
trained soldiers would not stand much chance, no 
matter how brave they were, against trained troops. 
Nowadays the enemy would get off ten miles, or 
more, and blow the whole hill into the ocean.” 

“ There you are, Skinny,” he went on, pointing 


162 Bunker Hill 

to a bronze statue that stood in the pathway. “ That 
is a statue of Colonel William Prescott who com- 
manded the American troops in the battle where 
you lost your ancestor. See, he is holding back his 
men. You may have heard it mentioned, boys,” he 
laughed, “ that he said to his troops, ‘ Don’t fire 
until I tell you. Don’t fire until you see the whites 
of their eyes/ He is said to have stood on that very 
spot, facing a different direction, however, when he 
gave the order to fire.” 

“ Fellers,” cried Skinny, his eyes shining and 
his cheeks as red as apples, “ take off your hats ! ” 

“ Load ! ” he shouted. 

Each of us pulled out a big firecracker, the big- 
gest we could buy, and a match, and stood there 
waiting. 

“ Ready ! Light crackers ! ” 

Eight matches crackled and sputtered and eight 
fuses smoked and sizzled, burning their way slowly 
down toward the powder. I began to be afraid that 
I’d have to drop mine and run, it was getting so 
close. 

“ Fire!” 


Bunker Hill 163 

We had surrounded the statue while waiting for 
the signal. At the word, eight giant crackers were 
thrown into the air above Colonel Prescott’s head. 
Then, as they went off like a gatling gun with a ter- 
rible roaring, Skinny drew the American flag from 
his pocket and waved it to beat the band, while we 
all cheered, Bill Wilson louder than anybody. 

Mr. Norton, who had been standing to one side 
away from us, looked sort of dazed and startled. 
It all had happened so quickly that he didn’t have 
time to stop us and didn’t know whether he ought 
to stop us or not. The noise hardly had died away 
when we heard the sound of hurrying feet and two 
big policemen came running up. 

“What are you kids doing here?” shouted one 
of them angrily. “ Be off wid ye, or I’ll run yees 
in.” 

“ For the love of Pete ! ” exclaimed the other. 
“ I thought it was a riot.” 

Skinny was mad and he was scared; it was easy 
to see that; and we all were. We felt better, having 
Mr. Norton near, but he didn’t say a word, only 
waited to see what we’d do. 


164 Bunker Hill 

He didn’t have to wait long. Skinny laid the flag 
across his chest and faced the policemen. 

“ You dassn’t run us in,” said he. “ This is the 
Fourth of July and I guess we can make all the 
noise we want to. Here’s where a handful of Amer- 
icans waited till they could see the whites of their 
eyes and then lammed it to the British soldiers, and 
one of my ancestors was killed. We’ve got a right 
to fire a salute to them on the Fourth of July.” 

The policemen stared at him; then burst into a 
laugh, 

“ Begorra,” said one of them, “ right ye are and 
its mesilf that wishes Michael Flannigan had been 
there for the glory of ould Ireland. Salute all ye 
want to, me lads. I’ll arrist the first mon that stops 
ye, if he be the mayor himsilf.” 

It is a great sight from the top of the monument, 
looking out over the city. We had climbed up a 
winding stairway, two hundred ninety-five steps, 
for we counted them. The monument was begun in 
1825, Mr. Norton told us, when the corner stone 
was laid by LaFayette. Daniel Webster made the 
speech. It took twenty years to finish the monu- 


Bunker Hill 165 

ment because of lack of money. Finally, a lot of 
American women got back of the work and the 
funds were raised. 

“ These men who fought here,” he added, “ laid 
the corner stone of a far greater monument than 
Bunker Hill, as I told you yesterday — government 
by representation, human liberty. Guard that monu- 
ment, boys, as you would guard your homes, your 
lives, and the honor of a Scout.” 


CHAPTER XIII 


SIGNALS IN OLD NORTH CHURCH 

E’LL go over and take a look at the 



United States Navy Yard while we are 


in Charlestown,” said Mr. Norton, after we had 
come down from the monument and shaken hands 
with the policemen. “ The Navy Yard occupies the 
point where the British troops landed for the battle. 
Afterwards we’ll go back to Old Boston where there 
is enough to see to keep us busy until evening.” 

It would take up too much room to put down all 
that we saw and learned in Old Boston. 

“ We’ll paralyze teacher when we get back to 
school,” Bill told us. “ Til bet she doesn’t know all 
these things.” 

“ Mine does,” said Benny. “ She knows ’most 
everything.” 

Anyhow, we saw a lot and learned a lot — I mean 
about the history of our country. 


Signals in Old North Church 167 

One time we were walking down the crooked 
streets, thinking how easy it would be to get lost, 
when we came out into a sort of “ square ” and Mr. 
Norton stopped in front of a queer, old building. 
It had a steeple with a bell in it and looked some 
like a church, only there were markets on the first 
floor, where they sold all kinds of things to eat. 

“ Here is one of the sacred places of America, 
fellows,” he said. “ It is called the ‘ Cradle of 
Liberty.’ ” 

It looked more like a cradle of vegetables to us 
and we told him so. 

“ It is old Faneuil Hall,” he replied. “ The lower 
part is a * cradle of vegetables,’ as you have sug- 
gested, for it is used as a public market and was 
built for that purpose. Long ago, when Boston 
was only a small place, the people had been quar- 
relling over the market system. Some wanted a 
public market in one part of the town, some in an- 
other, and others wanted something else. A man 
named Peter Faneuil settled the question by build- 
ing a market house in Dock Square at his own ex- 
pense and giving it to the town on condition that it 


1 68 Signals in Old North Church 

should be maintained as a public market. Over the 
market he had built a hall, which in those early days 
was thought very large and beautiful. The build- 
ing was completed and given to the town, my guide 
book says, in 1742. Mr. Faneuil died soon after 
and his funeral was the first public meeting held in 
the hall. 

“ Twenty years later the building was partly de- 
stroyed by fire but was rebuilt and in 1898 the whole 
building was inclosed in fire proof material as you 
see it now. It is wider and one story higher than 
the original building. When the old hall was rebuilt 
in 1762 it was dedicated to liberty and later became 
known as the ‘ Cradle of Liberty.’ We’ll visit it 
after we have had some dinner.” 

“ I was thinking about dinner, myself,” Skinny 
told him. “ Seeing all those things to eat over there 
makes us hungry.” 

After dinner we went back to Faneuil Hall. 
“ Hats off, boys,” said Mr. Norton. “ That is the 
best salute to give a place like this.” 

“ Why is it called the ‘ Cradle of Liberty ’ ? ” I 
asked, after we had signed our names in a big book 


Signals in Old North Church 169 

to show that we had been there, and were stand- 
ing once more looking at the building from the 
street. 

“ It is because Boston was the center of events 
which led up to the Revolution and this old hall was 
the center of Boston. All the town meetings were 
held here, and various patriotic gatherings. Here 
is where the hated Stamp Act was denounced. When 
it finally was repealed by the English Parliament, 
Faneuil Hall was lighted in honor of the event. 

“ Fiery old Samuel Adams, who has been called 
the Father of the Revolution, often addressed the 
people here. He was a great patriot. While you 
boys are in the saluting business you ought to salute 
him. The towns of Adams and North Adams were 
named for him. 

“ A committee was formed in Faneuil Hall to 
draw up a paper, stating to the world what the 
rights of the colonists were claimed to be. Since 
the Revolution it also has been a notable place 
and the country's ablest orators have spoken here. 
The name, ‘ Cradle of Liberty,' really came from 
those old town meetings where the people of 


17° Signals in Old North Church 

Boston used to discuss the rights of the colonies 
and whether it would be proper for them to resist 
England.” 

“ Betcher life it was proper,” said Skinny. “ Say, 

I wish the Band had been there to help.” 

“ You boys have just as important work to do, 
and that is to defend and maintain the rights for 
which our forefathers struggled. In one way this 
old hall illustrates the formation of our government 
— as a place for holding town meetings. You see, 
our system of government starts with the people and 
works up to the President, instead of starting with 
a king, or emperor, and working down to the people. 
In a representative republic like this the ruler has 
rights only as the people permit. In a monarchy 
the people have rights only as the ruler permits. 
There is quite a difference, you see, a difference 
worth struggling for and maintaining. 

“ Our government starts when the people of a 
township, neighbors to one another, get together 
and talk things over, much as you boys do at your 
cave. That is called a town meeting and it is neces- 
sary, of course, that the people should have some 


Signals in Old North Church 171 

hall to meet in. When you boys start out to play 
ball you sometimes get together and decide about 
the rules of the game, who is to be captain, who will 
play first base, who will go first to bat, is over the 
fence out and so on. That is very much like a town 
meeting, where grown-up boys decide how they 
shall play the game of government. There were 
some hot discussions in Faneuil Hall in the early 
days. 

“ I wonder if I can explain our system of govern- 
ment in a rough way that you will understand. 
First, as I have said, we have the towns, as a begin- 
ning. Here, then, we have a group of towns which 
have much in common and naturally would play the 
game together. They form a little league, called a 
county, and county meetings are held at some cen- 
tral town, called the county seat. It wouldn’t be 
easy for everybody in the towns to go to such meet- 
ings, so for convenience each town selects one or 
more players to go up and act for all the rest. That 
is what we mean by representative government. 

“ Next we have a group of counties, forming 
what is called a state, and state meetings are held 


172 Signals in Old North Church 

at the state capital. All the people of the counties 
would not be able to get into the statehouse, even 
should they go down ; so they choose certain repre- 
sentatives to meet for them and play in the state 
league, so to speak. Then each state puts a team 
into the National league, which we call the United 
States of America. Finally, we have an all-star 
team which represents the Nation in a world series 
of games with other nations. We call our captain, 
President of the United States. 

“ But here is the point : Government of the people 
by representation with us starts back in the town 
meetings, where neighbors get together and set the 
ball rolling. Much that we have and much that we 
are as a Nation, we owe to the patriots who used 
to meet in this old hall.” 

“ Gee,” said Skinny, when Mr. Norton had 
stopped for breath. “ It’s great but, honest Injun, 
we’d rather play the real thing. Wouldn’t we, fel- 
lers?” 

“ Now, boys,” said Mr. Norton a little later when 
we were passing a large building, “ I am going to 
step into one of these offices for a minute, shake 


Signals in Old North Church 173 

hands with an old friend and see if any mail has 
come for me. Before leaving home I promised to 
report here at about this hour every time I came to 
Boston. You see, some business or other matter 
might come up suddenly, making it necessary to get 
hold of me quickly. It is not probable that any- 
thing will come up but a promise is a promise and a 
Scout is trustworthy, you know/’ 

We waited outside until he came out a few min- 
utes later with a yellow paper in his hand and look- 
ing very much disturbed. 

“ It is a telegram from my wife,” he explained. 
“ Something has happened which makes it neces- 
sary for me to run over to Holyoke this afternoon. 
I don’t like to spoil your day, boys, but cannot leave 
you in this large city alone. I’ll put you on the 
Nantasket boat but there will not be time for me to 
go with you. You will have no trouble, however, 
making your way to the camp from Pemberton. 
I’ll come back in the morning.” 

We all made such a fuss about leaving Bos- 
ton that he tried to think of some other way out 
of it. 


174 Signals in Old North Church 

“ I’ll tell you what we can do,” he exclaimed 
finally. “We’ll call up the Scout Commissioner, 
explain what has happened and ask him to give us 
the address of some reliable rooming house where 
you can stay to-night. Then we all can go back to 
camp to-morrow together. I’ll ask him also to send 
a Scoutmaster, or somebody, to show you boys 
around the city, both this afternoon and in the morn- 
ing, but leave word where you will be at a certain 
hour so that I can find you.” 

“ I have the address,” he told us, when he had 
come out of the telephone booth. “ We’ll go over 
and take a look at the place; then wait for the man 
he said he would send. Skinny is so fond of Parker 
House rolls that I was tempted to put you up at the 
Parker House where they first came from but a 
quiet rooming house will be better for you than a 
hotel and will be cheaper, something which it is 
necessary for us to consider.” 

We found a large, comfortable house in a quiet 
neighborhood and were given two rooms on the 
third floor, with two beds in each room. Pretty 
soon a young man came who said that his name was 


Signals in Old North Church 175 

Wheeler and that he had been sent by the Commis- 
sioner to take us in charge. That made everything 
all right but Mr. Norton hated to leave us, just the 
same. 

The afternoon went fast after that and we saw 
all kinds of things. When we had begun to grow 
tired we went over to Boston Common to rest 
before getting some supper. Boston Common is 
a park in the middle of the city, where people 
used to pasture their cows when Boston first was 
settled. 

It was beginning to grow dark when Mr. Wheeler 
took us back to the rooming house and left us for 
the night. 

“ m come again at nine o'clock in the morning," 
he said. “ You can get breakfast here— I have made 
the arrangements — and afterward we shall have 
time to look around some more before Mr. Norton 
arrives." 

We were shown to our rooms which opened to- 
gether and sat there a long time, talking over the 
big doings of the day. Skinny was restless. He 
kept walking to the window, looking out and finger- 


176 Signals in Old North Church 

ing the queer shaped package which he had carried 
all day. 

“ What’s in the bundle ? ” we asked, finally. 
“ Something to eat ? ” 

“ Sh-h ! ” he exclaimed, slowly unwrapping it. 
“ Mum’s the word ! ” 

In a minute we saw what it was — a lantern. Bill 
was disgusted. 

“ Lantern ! ” he snorted. “ And electric lights 
all over the house! ” 

“ Bill,” said Skinny, “ you are a good feller but 
you ain’t up on history.” 

Then I knew what he meant and said over the 
words of the poem out loud, 

“ Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch 
Of the North church tower as a signal light ” 

“ Betcher life ! I’d be ashamed to go home with- 
out doing it. It wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be 
patriotic.” 

Skinny went to the window again and pointed 
to a ladder which was fastened to the wall outside. 
It was a fire escape. 


Signals in Old North Church 177 

“ We can slip out,” he told us, “ hang the signal, 
then slip back again and nobody will know that we 
have been away. Nobody will care, anyhow. It’s 
for our country.” 

“ Skinny,” said Bill, “ you have a great head, like 
a tack. I’ll be the first one out, anyhow.” 

As he spoke he climbed through the window to the 
ladder and made his way down. One after another, 
we followed, until all stood on the ground; then 
slipped through the darkness of an alley to a lighted 
street beyond. 

We had to inquire the way several times but at 
last we stood in front of the old church, looking up 
at the tower where the Paul Revere signal lights 
were hung long ago and from which General Gage, 
commander of the British army, watched the battle 
of Bunker Hill. 

It was too dark to read the words but we knew 
that the tablet on the tower front said, “ The signal 
lanterns of Paul Revere, displayed in the steeple of 
this church April 18, 1775, warned the country of 
the march of the British troops to Lexington and 
Concord.” 


178 Signals in Old North Church 

What bothered Skinny was that he had only one 
lantern. 

“ The piece says two/’ said he, “ ‘ one if by land 
and two if by sea/ but what is a feller going to do 
when he hasn’t got two ? ” 

Benny wanted to go up to Paul Revere’s house 
and borrow one. “ Maybe they have the very same 
ones,” said he. 

“ No, Benny,” I told him. “ Paul Revere didn’t 
hang up the signals. The sexton did that; then 
climbed out of a back window and went to bed with 
his clothes on. He didn’t have time to undress 
because he wanted to be in bed when the signal was 
discovered by the British. Paul Revere did the 
riding.” 

But we couldn’t think of any way out of it until 
Hank, all of a sudden, slapped his knee and began 
to laugh. 

“ The pinwheel ! ” said he, when he saw us look- 
ing at him. “ We’ve got a big one left. Use the 
pinwheel for one signal and the lantern for the 
other. It will look like something then; it will look 
like a fire.” 


Signals in Old North Church 179 

“ Hank,” Skinny told him, “ you have saved the 
Fourth of July and done something for your coun- 
try. Come on, fellers. Sneak across, one at a time, 
and slip through the door. I’ll go first.” 

He ran across the street and tried the door. It 
was locked. 

We gave a groan and it looked for a minute as if 
there wouldn’t be any Paul Revere signals that 
night. 

“ They never ought to lock a church,” mourned 
Skinny. “ Somebody might want to get in.” 

“ What’s the matter with breaking in ? ” asked 
Bill. 

“ It’s bad luck to break into a church but it’s for 
our country and that might make a difference. 
Maybe we’d better risk it.” 

Just then one of the boys gave a warning hiss. 
Looking across to where he was pointing, we saw a 
man go up the steps of the church, take a key out 
of his pocket and unlock the door.” 

“ It’s the sexton,” said Skinny. “ Come on, fel- 
lers. We’ll slip in; then hide and wait until he 


goes. 


180 Signals in Old North Church 

“ What if he sees us? ” 

“He can’t any more than kill us, can he? We 
can tell him that we wanted to see the inside of the 
old church where the signal lights were hung. It’s 
the truth, too.” 

We hurried across and slipped through the door; 
then hid under the pews. We could hear the man 
rummaging around somewhere. At last he went 
out and we heard him lock the door from the out- 
side. Then we crawled from under the pews and 
started for the tower, groping our way up through 
the dark. 

We didn’t dare light the lantern for fear that 
someone would see it before we were ready. 

“ It’s for our country,” whispered Skinny. 
" Hurry, fellers. They will be surprised, I guess, 
when they see the signal lights.” 

At last we reached the belfry without breaking 
our necks and crouched there in the shadows. 

“ If there had been as many houses then as there 
are now,” said Dick, “ General Gage couldn’t have 
seen much of the battle.” 

It was great, looking out over the city, where the 


Signals in Old North Church 181 

lights of evening were beginning to shine and 
twinkle. We could see skyrockets shoot into the 
air over by the Common, then break into a shower 
of fire and come raining down. We sat there a long 
time, looking. 

Finally, Skinny lighted the lantern and hung it 
up and Hank, after a lot of trouble, fastened the 
big pinwheel to one of the timbers by a nail, so that 
it would turn. Somebody lighted the fuse and with 
a great sizzing and sputtering the wheel began to 
move. Faster and faster whirled the circle of fire, 
spouting out a great fountain of sparks, while we 
swung our hats and went through the motions 
of yelling, watching to see that the sparks didn’t 
set anything on fire and careful not to make any 
noise. 

Pretty soon, down below we could hear the people 
cry out in surprise at what they saw. They 
gathered in groups, talking excitedly and pointing. 
It made us feel proud. Skinny was real chesty 
over it. 

“ Didn’t I tell you they’d be surprised? ” he said. 
“ But, just the same, Boston ought to be ashamed of 


1 82 Signals in Old North Church 

itself to be surprised. Here is where the Cradle of 
Liberty is and where Paul Revere’s signal lanterns 
were hung out, and here is where they watched for 
the whites of the enemy’s eyes. They ought to have 
a town meetin’ every year on the Fourth of July or 
the eighteenth of April; then at a certain hour, while 
the crowd waits with hats off, they ought to hang up 
the signal lanterns. Then everybody would yell to 
beat the band and ” 

We couldn’t hear the rest for Bill Wilson forgot 
where he was when Skinny told about the yelling 
part and, swinging his hat, let out a terrible screech. 
The pinwheel had slowed down, getting ready for 
a fresh start on the last fuse and was beginning to 
whirl again harder than ever, throwing sparks in 
every direction. 

Bill’s voice hadn’t any more than died away and 
he was drawing in his breath to do it again, when 
the cry was taken up down below. 

“ Fire ! ” somebody yelled. 

“ Fire ! Fire ! ” came from farther down the 
street and from over beyond. 

“ The old church ! Save the church ! ” 


Signals in Old North Church 183 

“ Now you’ve done it, Bill,” said Skinny. “ They 
think the church is on fire.” 

As he spoke, we heard the clang of a fire engine 
coming down Salem street and a great crowd began 
to gather below. 


CHAPTER XIV 


FIRE ! FIRE ! ” 


E were paralyzed at first, it all had hap- 



pened so suddenly. The fire engine was 


almost to the church and we could hear others com- 
ing, when Skinny woke up. 

“ We must light out of this, fellers,” he said. “ It 
will spoil everything if they find us here.” 

He started down the stairs as he spoke, and, one 
after another, we followed him, growing more 
frightened every second. We could hear somebody 
trying to break through the front doors. 

“ The back way,” whispered Skinny. “ The 
sexton who hung the Paul Revere signals climbed 
out through a back window. We can get out there 
while they are breaking in the front door.” 

Stumbling through the old church, we ran as best 
we could in the darkness, trying to find some way 
to get out without being seen. Then, after we had 
reached the back part of the church and were work- 


“Fire! Fire!” 185 

ing at a window, crash went the back door and 
some firemen rushed into the room, carrying a 
hose. 

We made a rush to get out but they were too 
quick for us and blocked the way. 

“To the front!” called Skinny. “Beat it!” 

We made our way to the front as fast as we 
could, with our hearts pounding like trip hammers. 

Crash went the front door; in came more fire- 
men. And there we were, trapped! When they 
saw us they were surprised and thought at first that 
we were firemen from the back way. 

“ Where’s the fire ? ” shouted one. 

“ There ain’t any,” said Skinny. 

“ What are you kids doing here? ” 

“ Nothin’; only celebratin’.” 

“ We’ll give you a chance to finish your celebra- 
tion in jail with a nice ride to start off on.” 

He blew a whistle and before we knew what was 
happening some policemen rushed in and grabbed 
us. They hustled us out of doors and into a covered 
car; in another minute we went tearing down the 


street. 


1 86 “Fire! Fire!” 

Skinny wet his lips with his tongue and tried to 
say something. 

“ Never you mind,” said the policeman. “ Just 
save your breath until we get there. You will need 
it all, then.” 

A few minutes later the car stopped and we were 
hustled into a building. Down a corridor they led 
us; then pushed us through a grated door into a 
little room. The door was slammed shut and locked ; 
the footsteps died away down the hall. We were 
alone. 

Nobody said a word for nearly a minute. 
Then Benny looked up at me, scared-like and 
with horror in his eyes, and exclaimed under his 
breath, 

“It’s the jail!” 

That’s what it was, or something like it, and it 
scared all of us. 

“ Great snakes ! ” Bill whispered to himself. “ I 
wish I hadn’t come.” 

We were left alone there a long time, or so it 
seemed, talking in low tones to one another and 
wondering what was going to happen next. It was 


“Fire! Fire!” 187 

awful. Benny seemed to feel the worst of all. You 
see, he hadn’t ever been in jail before. 

“ I promised my mother never to get in jail,” he 
whimpered, over and over again. 

“ Never mind,” I told him. “ We haven’t done 
anything to be put in jail for and Mr. Norton will 
get us out as soon as he comes back. 

“ He’ll never think of looking for us in a jail,” 
he said. 

“ Sure he will. The first thing he’ll do will be to 
get the police to look for us. Then he’ll hear about 
it and will get busy. Say, we’ll have something to 
tell the other boys when we get home.” 

I talked brave and tried to cheer him up but I 
felt just as he did. In jail ! I never could look my 
mother in the face again. 

Pretty soon Skinny began to get mad about it. 
He went to the grated door and shook the bars. 

“ You’re a nice bunch,” he shouted down the 
corridor. “ You dassn’t take somebody of your 
size. This is a great ‘ cradle of liberty’; nit! ” 

He wanted Bill to give one of his yells. “ That 
will bring them,” he urged. But there didn’t seem 


188 “Fire! Fire!” 

to be any yell left in Bill. He shook his head, 

mournfully. 

“ I yelled once too often,” he said. “ That’s what 
did it.” 

“ No, it was the pinwheel. The bone heads saw 
that and thought the church was on fire. It would 
have been just the same if you hadn’t yelled.” 

“ I can’t do it, Skinny. I — I don’t feel very well.” 

" We surprised ’em, anyhow,” said Skinny, after 
a minute. “ Betcher life they won’t forget us in a 
hurry. We ‘rocked the cradle,’ all right, Benhy, 
just as you said. Maybe they will hang out lanterns 
every year after this.” 

After what seemed an age, we heard steps com- 
ing down the hall. A man stopped at our door and 
unlocked it. 

“ Come out,” he ordered. “ The Captain wants 
to see you.” 

We filed out, one by one, Skinny pinning his flag 
over his chest as he went, and soon found ourselves 
in a big room. Several policemen were standing 
around and there was a man sitting at a desk. 

“ Here is the bunch, Captain,” said one of them, 


“Fire! Fire!” 189 

as we went in. “ We caught them trying to set the 
old church on fire.” 

“ Why, they are nothing but boys ! ” exclaimed 
the man at the desk. 

“ Maybe so, but they’d ’a’ had the old church 
going if we hadn’t got there just as we did.” 

“ We wouldn’t do ” Skinny began. 

The man waved his hand for him to keep still. 

“ Now,” said he to the policeman, “ tell me exactly 
what happened.” 

“ Well, it was this way. There was a blaze in 
the belfry of the old church on Salem street and 
somebody turned in an alarm. The firemen broke 
in the door and found these lads inside, trying to 
get away. It looked bad; so we brought them over.” 

“ Boys, what have you got to say for your- 
selves?” snapped the Captain, turning to us. Then 
he seemed to see Skinny’s flag for the first time. 

“ You boy with the flag,” said he. “ What is the 
meaning of all this? ” 

Skinny looked at us, wetting his lips with his 
tongue; then sort of braced up and faced the man. 

“ You dassn’t touch me,” he said, “when that 


C 


flag is there, and on the Fourth of July. Even the 
British wouldn’t have done any more to the sexton 
who hung the lanterns, if they had caught him, 
than you have done to us. It’s treason; that’s what 
it is. You could be hung for it, and maybe you will 
be when folks find it out. 

“ They call Boston the ‘ Cradle of Liberty,’ ” he 
went on, “and nobody here ever hangs up Paul 
Revere’s lanterns on the Fourth of July, or the 
eighteenth of April. Cradle of fiddlesticks, I say. 
George Wash ” 

He would have said a lot more but a policeman 
broke in. 

“ The lad is as crazy as a Junebug, Captain,” he 
said. “ If this man Revere was with them he got 
away. We didn’t see hide nor hair of him, or we’d 
’a’ brought him along.” 

“ Easy, easy,” said the Captain, holding up his 
hand. “ Who is this Revere you are talking about 
and what has he got to do with it? ” 

“ Paul Revere is dead,” began Skinny, looking 
at him in astonishment. “ He was a hero of the 
Revolution and when the British soldiers started 


to march on Lexington and Concord he had a friend 
hang two signal lanterns in the belfry of the old 
church, while he waited outside the city on his 
horse. When he saw the signals he galloped away 
and pounded on the doors of the farmhouses, tell- 
ing the people that the British were coming.” 

“ I have heard of Paul Revere, of course/’ in- 
terrupted the Captain, “ but is that any reason why 
you should try to burn the old church down ? ” 

“ We didn’t do any such a thing,” cried Skinny, 
“ and we wouldn’t do it, either. Would we, fellers? 
We thought we ought to celebrate by hanging two 
lanterns in the steeple, just like they were hung for 
Paul Revere that time. We only had one lantern, 
so we shot off a pinwheel for the other. Folks 
thought it was a fire but it wasn’t. We were doing 
it for our country.” 

“ So you were just doing the Paul Revere act?” 

“ Yes, sir; the signal part. We didn’t have any 
horse for the other.” 

“ And you think that to bring you down here was 
treason, punishable by death ? ” 

“ Well, maybe not quite as bad as that but it was 


192 “Fire! Fire!” 

an awful thing to do, just the same, right here in 
Paul Revere’s own town and where the battle of 
Bunker Hill was fought. Thirteen of my ancestors 
were in that battle and one was killed. The police 
didn’t run them in, I guess, when they stood there 
waiting to see the whites of the enemy’s eyes.” 

“ Yes, sir,” put in Benny, who was beginning to 
get his courage back for he saw the Captain smiling. 
“ And it’s a good thing for the policemen who 
arrested us that Mr. Michael Flannigan wasn’t 
around, or there would have been something 
doing.” 

“ Who is Flannigan ? ” 

“ He is a police officer, or something, here in 
Boston. We fired a salute this morning down by 
Bunker Hill Monument, on account of Skinny’s an- 
cestors. At first Mr. Flannigan thought it was a 
riot but when he found out what we were doing he 
told us to go ahead and celebrate all we wanted to. 
He said he would arrest the first man who tried to 
stop us, even if it was the mayor.” 

“ He must mean Mike Flannigan, a new man over 
in the Charlestown district,” said one of the men. 


“Fire! Fire!” 


193 

“ Get him on the ’phone,” ordered the Captain. 

“ Hello,” said he, when they had found him. “ Is 
this Flannigan ? ” 

“ Say, Flannigan, some boys have been brought 
in here, charged with trying to set Christ church 
on fire. They claim they were only celebrating by 
placing signals in the belfry like the sexton did for 
Paul Revere in the days of the Revolution. They 
say that you told them to go ahead and celebrate all 
they wanted to and you would arrest the first man 
that interfered. One young fire-eater wants to have 
me hung for treason. What do you know about 
them?” 

He listened for a moment, chuckling to himself. 
We could hear a voice buzzing but couldn’t make 
out the words. 

“ Say,” he laughed, “ let us off this time, Flan- 
nigan. I’d hate to be hanged on the Fourth of 
July.” 

He turned to me who stood nearest. “ He says 
there was a man with you this morning. Where is 
he now ? ” 

“ He means Mr. Norton, our Scoutmaster,” I 


194 “Fire! Fire!” 

told him. “ We are Boy Scouts from the west end 
of the state and are camping out on Allerton beach. 
We came up to Boston to celebrate the Fourth 
because Mr. Norton told us that this was the 
Cradle of Liberty. He had to go over to a 
place called Holyoke and is going to meet us 
tomorrow. He doesn’t know about the signal 
business.” 

The police captain bored me through with his 
eyes. 

“ I think probably you are telling the truth,” he 
said, at last, when he had looked at me so long that 
I began to get nervous, “ but Scouts or no Scouts, 
you were arrested under very suspicious circum- 
stances and you came dangerously near setting the 
old church on fire. Where are you boys stopping in 
Boston ? ” 

“ They think we are in bed now,” Benny ex- 
plained, when we had told where the rooming house 
was. “ We climbed down the fire escape.” 

“ I don’t like to lock you boys up. If you will 
promise on your honor as Scouts to report here to 
me at ten o’clock to-morrow morning, I’ll have one 


“Fire! Fire!” 


of my men take you back to your rooms for the 
night.” 

We promised and soon were in bed. But it 
wasn’t easy to sleep. Benny, who was with me, 
kept wondering what his mother would say and 
what they would do with us in the morning. We 
all felt the same way. Even after the other boys 
were quiet and I had dropped off, I dreamed that a 
big policeman was chasing me and when I awoke I 
could hear Benny moaning in his sleep. 

Mr. Wheeler was surprised next morning when 
he found out what had happened. 

“ I heard about the signals last night,” he said, 
“ but had no idea you fellows were kicking up the 
rumpus. There is only one thing to do — face 
the music. I’ll go with you at ten and help all I 
can.” 

It was exactly ten o’clock when we opened the 
door into the police office and stood there before 
the desk with our hats off and giving the Scout 
salute. 

“ Here you are,” said the Captain, “ prompt to 
the second, which is good as far as it goes.” 


196 “Fire! Fire!” 

He sat there, looking us over and thinking. “ Is 
this man Mr. Norton?” he asked, finally. 

“ No,” said Mr. Wheeler. “ I was sent by the 
Scout Commissioner to look after these boys during 
Mr. Norton’s absence. I couldn’t very well be with 
them all night but I can assure you, Captain, that 
they are good boys and that their prank sprang 
from a patriotic impulse rather than from a desire 
for mischief. After all, it wasn’t a bad idea, to 
display the Paul Revere signals in the old church 
on the Fourth of July.” 

When Mr. Wheeler mentioned the Scout 
Commissioner, the Captain straightened up and 
his face cleared as if he had thought what to 
do. 

“ So far as the laws of the city are concerned,” 
he told us, “ I think you have been punished enough; 
but you Scouts have laws and officers of your own. 
What I have decided is this: You must square 
yourselves with the Boston Scout Commissioner. 
Wait for your Mr. Norton to come back, if you 
wish, but square yourselves you must. When the 
Commissioner telephones me that everything is all 


right, then and not until then, you may feel free to 
go about your own affairs.” 

Mr. Norton came back about noon and we told 
him what we had done and what the police captain 
had decided about squaring ourselves with the 
Scout Commissioner. 

“ You seem to get into some scrape every time I 
let you out of my sight,” said he. “ What is the 
trouble ? I can’t be with you every minute. Skinny, 
you mustn’t let your patriotism outrun your judg- 
ment.” 

“ We didn’t mean any harm, Mr. Norton, and we 
didn’t do any harm. It wasn’t our fault, was it, 
because they saw our pinwheel and thought it was 
a fire? ” 

“ It seems to have been your misfortune. Well, 
there is only one thing to do. We’ll go to the Com- 
missioner and make a clean breast of it. The Cap- 
tain put you upon honor to do that and a Scout’s 
honor is to be trusted. 

Having Mr. Norton with us made it easier but 
it was hard, just the same. The Commissioner 
heard our story and then gave us a talking to that 


198 “ Fire! Fire!” 

we shall not soon forget. Skinny said afterward 
that it almost made his hair curl. When he had 
finished the Commissioner went to a telephone and 
called up the police captain. 

/‘The boys have been here,” we heard him say, 
“ and I’ll be responsible for their future good com 
duct.” 

“ I was intending to take you to Lexington and 
Concord in a few days,” Mr. Norton told us on the 
way back to camp. “ I want to show you the battle 
fields and some other points of interest, but maybe 
it wouldn’t be safe. You might go galloping 
through the country like Paul Revere did and get 
arrested for speeding.” 

“Guess what!” said Benny. “We haven’t any 
horse.” 


CHAPTER XV 


THE BATTLE OF LEXINGTON 

A LL aboard for Lexington and Concord,” 
shouted Mr. Norton one day, some time 
after the things happened that I have been telling 
about. 

We had been enjoying ourselves for a week or 
more, visiting the museum in the old Boston state- 
house and other interesting places, and going up 
and down the shore, seeing all kinds of strange 
things which cannot be seen around Bob’s Hill or 
Greylock. We never had expected to see seals out- 
side a circus but there were plenty of them down 
where we were, not at Allerton but over at a place 
called Pig Rocks. They often came up out of the 
water to sun themselves on the rocks. 

We spent one day in Plymouth where the Pilgrim 
Fathers landed in 1620, and we saw the rock on 
which they came ashore. It is back from the water 


199 


200 The Battle of Lexington 

now. Another time we went up to Nahant, north 
of Boston, which isn’t anything like Allerton or 
Nantasket. Instead of a sloping, sandy beach, up 
which waves pour until their force is spent, there 
are rocks everywhere, piled up in all kinds of shapes 
and reaching to the water’s edge and below. It was 
great to be there. When the waves rolled in and 
struck the rocks there was a tremendous pounding 
and thundering and the spray dashed high in the 
air. 

We had put off our Lexington and Con- 
cord trip until later and now the time had come 
to go. 

“ Suppose we give ourselves a treat,” Mr. Norton 
had said that morning. “ You boys have caught so 
many fishes and dug so many clams that our 
funds are holding out better than I expected. How 
would you like to go to Boston this evening, take in 
a good show, and stay all night at some hotel? 
Then we shall be ready for an early start to-morrow. 
It will do us good to eat some other cooking than 
our own.” 

He didn’t have to take a vote on that question. 


The Battle of Lexington 201 

There was great cheering when he had finished and 
Bill pranced around on his hands and kicked. 

“ We shall have to hurry if we want to get the 
next boat at Pemberton,” he called again. 

We were almost ready and in a few minutes were 
on a train that we knew would connect with the boat. 
A little later we went sailing through the green 
waters of Boston Harbor up to the city, a ride which 
we never tired of taking. 

It rained hard that night after the show. We 
were worried some, being anxious to have the 
weather fine next day, but we were snug and dry 
in the hotel. We boys had double rooms, opening 
together, with windows looking out on a sort of 
alley. Mr. Norton’s room was across the hall, mak- 
ing it easy for him to come in and talk to us and 
keep us straight. We sat up a long time with him, 
talking about the battles of Lexington and Con- 
cord. 

“Of course, you know about them in a general 
way,” our Scoutmaster told us, “ but I think we 
shall get more out of our trip to-morrow if we jog 
our memories a little to-night. Who knows what 


202 The Battle of Lexington 

the fight was about? Skinny, what made Paul Re- 

vere’s ride necessary? ” 

“ To arouse the Minute Men. He pounded on 
their doors and yelled, ‘ The British are coming.’ ” 

“ Yes, but why were the British coming? What 
were they trying to do? ” 

“ Destroy some powder and guns at Concord,” 
said Jim. 

“ That’s it. The colonists had organized twelve 
thousand men who had agreed to leave their work 
and fight at a minute’s notice. They were called 
Minute Men. General Gage in Boston had learned 
that a lot of military supplies, which would be 
needed in a fight, were being stored at Concord and 
he made up his mind to destroy them. He accord- 
ingly planned the expedition which started the war. 
His purpose also was to arrest John Hancock and 
Samuel Adams, two strong patriots who were stir- 
ring up feeling against the mother country. 

“ Gage tried to do this secretly but in some way 
the colonists found out about it. They didn’t know 
just when the British troops would start or which 
way they would march. Messengers were needed 


The Battle of Lexington 203 

to carry the news. Name one of them, Skinny. 
You may have three guesses.” 

“ Paul Revere ! ” 

“ Yes, a patriot named Paul Revere and another 
named William Dawes were selected as messengers. 
Don’t forget Dawes.” 

“ I never heard of him.” 

“ That is the unfortunate part of it. Dawes did 
good work that night, just as good as Revere, but 
he wasn’t lucky enough to have a poem written about 
him and so has been forgotten by most people. Per- 
haps it was due to his name. The name, Paul Re- 
vere, is a whole poem in itself. Dawes was to hurry 
to Lexington by way of Roxbury and Revere, by 
way of Charlestown. The signals in the old church 
were a part of the plan. 

“ When the eight hundred British soldiers, under 
Major Pitcairn, reached Lexington common, along 
after midnight, they found about sixty Minute Men 
standing there.” 

“ You know what happened well enough,” he 
went on with a smile, for Skinny and Bill were 
pretending to shoot, “ but there is one little thing 


204 The Battle of Lexington 

you may not know. The colonists didn’t want to 
begin the war. They wanted to act entirely within 
the law. There was an old English law which said 
that a townsman had a right to go up and down 
the king’s highway without being molested, as long 
as he conducted himself properly. If hindered by 
the king’s troops and fired upon, the troops became 
the aggressors and whoever ordered them to fire 
became responsible. 

“ Those men standing on the village green at 
Lexington were Englishmen and they had a right 
to be there. They were not disturbing the peace.” 

“ They were loaded, though.” 

“Yes; their commander, Captain Jonas Parker, 
had said to them when he saw the troops coming, 
‘ Men, stand your ground. Don’t fire unless fired 
upon but if they mean war let it begin here.’ That 
placed the responsibility entirely on the king’s 
troops, and the war began right there.” 

“ Major Pitcairn called them rebels and told them 
to disperse,” said Benny. “ When they didn’t do it 
he gave the order to fire.” 

“There you have it. That battle, if it can be 


The Battle of Lexington 205 

called a battle, was the beginning of a war which in 
some ways has changed the history of the world and 
it was begun by the king’s troops, not by the colo- 
nists.” 

“ How about Concord ? ” asked Hank. 

“ Lexington was on the way to Concord and a 
messenger was sent at once ahead of the troops to 
tell the people there what had happened at Lexing- 
ton. The meeting house bell in Concord was rung 
at two o’clock in the morning, calling out all the 
inhabitants. One of the first men out with his gun 
was the preacher, William Emerson, grandfather 
of Ralph Waldo Emerson, one of the greatest 
writers America has produced. The fight took place 
at a bridge but even there the colonists were fired 
upon three times before they returned the fire. 

“ The British did what they had set out to do, 
destroyed the supplies, and started back. Then 
came the colonists’ busy day. By that time the 
whole countryside was aroused and furious. The 
soldiers had to run a gauntlet of fire nearly all the 
way back to Boston. Not one of them would have 
escaped had not reinforcements come up with can- 


206 The Battle of Lexington 

non. The British lost 273 men and the Americans, 
103. We’ll see Lexington Green and Concord 
bridge to-morrow, if it stops raining. Ralph Waldo 
Emerson, grandson of the patriot preacher of Con- 
cord, wrote a famous poem about that fight at the 
bridge. It begins this way, 

“By the rude bridge that arched the flood , 
Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, 

Here once the embattled farmers stood 
And fired the shot heard round the world ” 

Bill Wilson didn’t think much of it — the poem, 
I mean, not the battle. 

“ You couldn’t hear a shot around the world,” 
he said. “ They don’t call it poetry when little 
Willie says such things.” 

“ Aw g’wan ! ” exclaimed Skinny. “ It doesn’t 
mean to hear with your ears.” 

“ That’s what I hear with,” Bill told him. 

“ I am inclined to think,” said Mr. Norton, “ that 
if Bill had been there with his justly celebrated yell 
the words of the poem might be accepted more lit- 
erally. What the poet meant, however, was that the 


The Battle of Lexington 207 

results of that battle, which, with Lexington, was 
the beginning of the Revolutionary War, were felt 
around the world. That war established the right 
of the people to govern themselves, as I told you the 
other day. 

“ It was not the expense of the taxes imposed by 
England to which the colonists objected. Those 
taxes were not burdensome. They paid much 
larger colonial taxes without a murmur. But here 
is the point: The English taxes were levied with- 
out their consent. They hadn’t anything to say 
about it. The colonial taxes had been voted by 
themselves, or their representatives. It made a 
difference.” 

“ They didn’t catch Samuel Adams, did they?” 
some one asked. 

“No; thanks to Paul Revere’s warning. When 
the old patriot heard what had happened on the 
green at Lexington he exclaimed, ‘ O, what a 
glorious morning ! ’ He felt that the shedding of 
American blood, although sad in itself, would bring 
to the colonies liberty and independence.” 

It made us excited to hear so much about battles 


2o8 The Battle of Lexington 

and shooting and when we finally went to bed we 
dreamed it all over again. I did, anyhow. I 
thought that I was behind a stone wall peppering the 
British. They made so much noise shooting that I 
woke up, all of a tremble. Even then they didn’t 
stop shooting but kept right on, making a fearful 
racket. 

I couldn’t understand it. I knew that I was not 
dreaming because I could hear the rain still pouring 
down outside, but below in the alley the battle kept 
on. I reached over and awakened Benny who was 
sleeping with me. 

“Do you hear it?” I whispered, “or am I 
crazy? ” 

“Shooting!” he gasped. “There’s a fight.” 

Two white forms stole out of the darkness toward 
our bed. It frightened us for a second, until we 
saw that they were Skinny and Bill. An instant 
later the other boys came in from the next room, 
and still the shooting kept up. 

We could see lights being turned on in some of 
the rooms in the hotel and could hear people talking 
excitedly. Then Mr. Norton came in, only partly 


The Battle of Lexington 209 

dressed. He was excited, too. We were glad to 
see him; it seemed safer. 

“ I was afraid that you would be frightened, 
boys,” he said, looking out of the window. “ It 
sounds like the battle of Lexington all over again.” 

“ Bang ! Bang ! ” went two shots, almost at the 
same time, and he jumped away from the window 
in a hurry. 

“ What is it? ” we asked him. 

“ I don’t know but it sounds very much like a 
revolver fight down there in the alley. I fear some- 
body has been murdered, maybe more than one. 
You boys go back to bed and I’ll run down and see 
what I can find out.” 

“Bang!” went another shot, after he had left 
the room. 

Hank crawled across the floor on his hands and 
knees until he reached the window; then lifted his 
eyes over the sill, trying to see out into the darkness. 

“ Bang ! Bang ! ” went the fight, sounding so near 
that he tumbled backward. We thought he had 
been shot until he came crawling back to us. 

“ Keep away from the windows, fellers,” warned 


210 The Battle of Lexington 

Skinny. “ When they get to shooting they don’t 
care what they shoot at or who they hit.” 

By this time the whole hotel was awake and we 
could hear shouting and people running up and down 
the hall. We huddled together in a corner, out of 
range from the window, and waited for Mr. Norton. 

“ Is the fight over? Has anybody been killed? ” 
we asked, as soon as we heard him coming. 

“All over,” he laughed, “ and nobody has been 
hurt. You couldn’t guess in a hundred years what 
happened, so I’ll tell you. Two or three of us 
dodged around into the alley, keeping out of sight 
as much as possible. We soon found that there was 
nobody in the alley excepting ourselves and there 
were no bodies on the ground. Then, as we looked, 
there came another volley of shots.” 

“We heard them. What was it?” 

“ The affair was very mystifying until we found 
the cause. I succeeded in arresting one of the fight- 
ers myself, single-handed, and here he is.” 

He held out one hand and showed us an electric 
light bulb. We couldn’t understand it and thought 
he was fooling. 


21 1 


The Battle of Lexington 

“ Fighter nothin’! ” Skinny began, but Mr. 

Norton was starting toward the window and we 
waited to see what he was going to do. 

“ This is one of the disturbers of the 
peace,” he went on, “although I arrested him 
before he had done any shooting himself. 
Listen ! ” 

As he spoke, he tossed the bulb out of the window. 
There was a moment of silence, then when the bulb 
had struck the pavement we heard a noise like a 
pistol shot. 

“ You see,” he explained, for we still were puz- 
zled, “ a barrel stands down there under a break 
in a water pipe. Into that barrel somebody had 
thrown a lot of used electric light bulbs. These 
bulbs contain what is called a vacuum ; that is, they 
do not contain anything, the air having been pumped 
out. They are very light. When water poured into 
the barrel from the broken pipe, the bulbs floated on 
top. As the water arose in the barrel, they arose 
with it, until finally when the barrel was full they 
began to float over the rim and fall to the pavement. 
It sounded like the battle of Lexington because as 


212 The Battle of Lexington 

each one struck it burst with a noise like a pistol 

shot.” 

It took a long time to get to sleep after the battle 
of Lexington but finally we dropped off and when 
we woke up again it was broad daylight and the sun 
was shining. 

That was a great day, which we never can forget. 
We were a tired bunch at night when we reached 
camp again but we had seen ’most everything, Lex- 
ington Green, Concord bridge, and all the rest, that 
before we only had studied about in school. 


CHAPTER XVI 


A MOUNTAIN HIKE 

T HE Bob’s Hill Boys have done a lot of travel- 
ling and have seen a lot of places, some of 
them pretty fine, but, just the same, we always are 
glad to start for home. Maybe it is because we are 
used to our own things that makes us like them. 
It isn’t just Bob’s Hill and the cave and things like 
that. It’s everything. 

Why, up over the hill there is a field with stone 
walls around it — a kind of level field but not so very 
level, either. The boys wouldn’t look at it twice 
out West where we have been and where it is easy 
to find level spots. That is where we play ball, and 
we like it. We call it the Eagle Ground. I don’t 
know why, we just call it that. 

Old Greylock looks down and watches us play 
there and seems to like to have us so near. 


213 


A Mountain Hike 


214 

Plunkett’s woods are over to one side, just a bit; 
and grass all around and blue sky overhead with 
white clouds playing tag over the mountain top, 
and crows calling away off somewhere, and maybe 
a chipmunk running along the top of the wall; and 
the boys 

Say, if I live to be as old as What’s-his-name in 
the Bible, I know that I’ll only have to shut my eyes 
any time to see the Band climbing Bob’s Hill and 
hear Bill Wilson yelling, “ scrub, ins,” and the 
others shouting, “ pitch,” “ catch,” “ first base,” and 
all the rest until the positions have been filled. And 
I’ll feel my heart swell as we race over the stone 
wall on to the Eagle Ground and Bill takes his 
stand at home base with his ball club raised. 

My father says that is the way it ought to be. 
He says it is something which belongs to boyhood; 
that a boy lives in a little world all his own, where 
the same things seem different and grown folks can’t 
break in, even if they want to. Maybe so. Anyhow, 
Skinny doesn’t want to grow up because grown 
folks don’t have any fun. He has watched them a 
lot of times when they were not looking, and so 


A Mountain Hike 215 

have I, and all they do is to sit around and talk. 
There is nothing to it, he says. 

And, fellers, he went on one day, when we 
were packing up, “ I hardly can wait to get home, 
although we have had fun. Bunker Hill is all right, 
of course, but Bob’s Hill for me every time, when 
it comes to a steady diet.” 

“ Are we going to walk over the mountain on the 
way back, like we said we would ? ” asked Benny. 

“ You boys can if you want to,” Mr. Norton told 
us, “ but I shall go straight through the tunnel. It 
is time I was getting home.” 

“ Maybe you will be afraid of bears,” he went on, 
winking at me but looking at Skinny. “ A number 
of bears have been seen on the Hoosac range during 
the past year.” 

Skinny gave a little snort and started to say 
something about lassoing a bear once ; then changed 
his mind. 

“ I eat a bear every morning for breakfast,” he 
said. But that wasn’t true, of course. Nobody 
could do that, not even a big giant. 

The boys said that they wanted to climb over the 


2 1 6 A Mountain Hike 

mountain, bears or no bears, and we left it that 

way. 

“ There is a good road over,” Mr. Norton ex- 
plained, “ and I don’t see how you can get into any 
trouble by yourselves that you wouldn’t get into 
were I along. The bears, I am sure, will steer clear 
of Skinny and his rope. If it should come to a show 
down, I think they would be more scared than you 
boys. You should be able to get home before dark 
and it will be good practice for you.” 

That is how eight boys happened to jump off the 
train at Hoosac Tunnel station, just before noon 
one day, and stand waving good-by to Mr. Norton 
until his train went into the hole in the mountain 
and out of sight. 

The Ravens had been there before and knew what 
to do. We made for the twin falls, part way up the 
mountain, above where the tunnel goes in. It looked 
good to see the falls again, tumbling down from 
different directions, until they joined at the bottom 
and dashed off down the hillside toward Deerfield 
river. 

“ How about it, fellows,” asked Dick, after we 


A Mountain Hike 


217 

had played there a while, “when are Boy Scouts 
supposed to eat ? It feels like dinner time.” 

“ The book doesn’t say,” Skinny told him, “ but 
something tells me that we are going to eat right 
now. Listen, and you’ll hear it yourself.” 

We all stood still, listening. We could hear a 
squirrel, scolding us from one of the trees, and a 
crow somewhere up on the mountainside, and the 
tumbling water. 

Skinny shook his head and pointed to the quiver- 
ing leaves of a big tree. Then we heard it — a low 
rustling sound in the tree, like bacon frying when 
you are hungry. It didn’t take us long to start a 
fire and get busy with a noise just like it. There 
by the mountain brook, at the foot of the falls, 
we ate a meal that made our packs a great deal 
lighter to carry. 

“ Come on,” I called, when we couldn’t eat any 
more. “ Let’s start. We want to get home or, any- 
how, strike North Adams before dark, and it is a 
long climb.” 

“ I can hardly walk,” groaned Benny, “ I’ve eaten 
so much.” 


2l8 


A Mountain Hike 


We all felt that way but, just the same, we 
couldn’t hang around there all day, and I told them 
so. 

“ Gee, Pedro is always wanting to get started,” 
said Skinny. “ I’ll tell you what, fellers, what’s the 
use of going over to the road? It’s a long way 
over there and when we’d get there we’d be farther 
from home than when we started. Then we’d have 
miles to go out of our way, because the road winds 
so much. We are part way up the mountain right 
now. What’s the matter with going straight up 
and over from here? It will be easy and we can 
take our time.” 

“ Are you sure we can get home before dark ? ” 
I asked. “ It wouldn’t be any fun to be caught on 
the mountain after dark.” 

“ Why not ? It isn’t anywhere near as far this 
way as the other. All we’ll have to do is to go up 
until we get to the top and then go down until we 
get to the bottom.” 

It sounded good to us, although sort of scary. It 
is a lot more fun to go tramping and climbing 
through woods in the shade, playing Indian and 


A Mountain Hike 


219 

finding all kinds of strange things, than to hike 
along a hot and dusty road. 

• “ Guess what,” said Benny; “ we’ll be explorers. 
We can play we are the first white men who ever 
set foot on the mountain. It will be almost true, 
too. I don’t believe many folks have climbed up 
here.” 

It didn’t take us long to pack and in a few min- 
utes we were climbing up through the woods, laugh- 
ing and shouting. 

We couldn’t go straight up, of course, because in 
some places we came to overhanging ledges of rock 
and at others the underbrush was too thick for us 
to go through without getting scratched. At such 
times we made our way around, in one direction or 
another, twisting about almost as much as the road 
which we didn’t take. But we had the slope to 
guide us and it didn’t matter much how far to one 
side or the other we went as long as we kept going 
up hill. 

We had been climbing that way a long time, two 
hours maybe, when I saw Skinny slap one hand on 
his leg and give a groan. 


220 A Mountain Hike 

“ Water,” said he, when we asked him what the 
matter was. “ We forgot to bring any water and 
I am dying for a drink. We’d ought to have 
brought a bottle of water from the twin falls. 
There ain’t any water on Greylock and maybe there 
ain’t any on this mountain.” 

“ We didn’t have any bottle,” I told him. 

“ We’ve each got a little one,” Bill reminded us; 
“ but there are matches in them to keep ’em dry.” 

I hadn’t been so very thirsty until Skinny told 
about there not being any water to drink but now 
I grew thirstier every minute, and it seemed to be 
the same with the other boys, for they all stopped 
and gathered around in a bunch to talk it over. 

“ We’ve got to find a brook somewhere,” Skinny 
finally decided. “ When we find it we can follow 
it up to the top of the mountain and drink when- 
ever we want to; then strike another going down 
the other side. What do you say, Jim? ” 

“ That sounds good to me.” 

“ I don’t believe we are so very far from one 
of the brooks that make the twin falls,” said Bill. 
“ All we need do is to go north along the side of 


A Mountain Hike 221 

the mountain until we come to it. Great snakes! 
Something is going to happen to the falls when 
little Willie begins to drink.’' 

“What’s the use of going north?” I asked. 
“ Every step we take north will be that much far- 
ther from home. No matter if we go four or five 
miles south we’ll be that much nearer the village.” 

“ Pedro,” shouted Jim, “ you’ve said it.” 

“ Yes; but we’d have to walk all the way home 
then,” objected Skinny. “We were going to ride 
down from North Adams.” 

“ Well, we can ride from wherever we come off 
the mountain. There must be all kinds of brooks. 
We may find one before we’ve gone half a mile.” 

“ Why not have Hank cut us some what-you- 
may-call-’em rods,” said Benny, “ the kind we used 
when we found the gold ? They point to water the 
same as to gold.” 

“ There ain’t any willow here,” Hank told us, 
“ but there is plenty of birch and maybe that will 
do as well.” 

After a while we were ready to start again, each 
with a forked stick in his hands. 


222 A Mountain Hike 

“ We’d better scatter by twos,” said Skinny, “ so’s 
to find it quicker, but keep within sound of each 
other. Yell to beat the band when you find water.” 

And if anybody gets out of hearing,” added 
Hank, “ climb a tree and look for a smoke signal.” 

“ I’ll bet a million dollars that I find water first,” 
said Bill, “ and when I do there won’t have to be 
any smoke signal. I’ll just whisper a few words 
and you’ll hear.” 

Then we started, Benny and I together, because 
Mrs. Wade made me promise to keep close to Benny. 
I guess it is because they live almost across the 
street from us. Skinny and Dick went together, 
both being patrol leaders. Jim, patrol leader of the 
Eagles, went with Hank. Bill Wilson, assistant 
patrol leader of the Ravens, went with Frank Bar- 
ker, assistant patrol leader of the Tigers. 

It was such fun that we forgot about being 
thirsty. Benny and I found a big patch of rasp- 
berries and they were almost as good as water. 

“ Maybe we’d better call the other boys on account 
of the berries,” I said, after we had filled up on 
them. 


A Mountain Hike 


223 

But we knew that we ought to be hurrying along 
and that they probably would find plenty of berries 
for themselves. Besides, every minute we expected 
to hear Bill, or somebody, yell. We thought we did 
hear him once and started in that direction, holding 
our divining rods but not thinking much about them. 
Finally, Benny gave a start and shouted in an ex- 
cited voice, 

“ Pedro, look at my divining rod.” 

I looked, and you needn’t believe me if you don’t 
want to, but it was pointing almost straight up into 
the air. At the same instant there was a crash of 
thunder and a black cloud blotted out the sun. 

“ It’s going to rain,” said Benny. “ The divining 
rod knows; it always points to water. We’ll get all 
wet.” 

“ Look for a cave,” I told him. “Come on; 
beat it.” 

We hurried along as fast as we could, and as we 
ran it grew darker and darker until we hardly could 
see, in the woods that way. The wind arose and 
tore through the branches until we thought the trees 
would come down on us, and the thunder roared 


A Mountain Hike 


224 

and crashed until we hardly could make each other 
hear, and we were scared nearly out of our wits. 

I grabbed Benny by one hand, so that we could 
keep together, and we struggled on, looking for 
some kind of shelter. 

Then the rain came. 

Say, that divining rod knew what it was about. 
It pointed to water, all right. We found all the 
water we needed in about two seconds. It came 
down in blinding sheets and pailfuls, which wet us 
to the skin and made the ground slippery where we 
walked. 

Finally, by the glare of a lightning flash we saw 
a big rock ahead of us and I drew Benny down on 
the windward side of that. It overhung us a little 
and kept off some of the rain. 

There we crouched for I don’t know how long. 
It seemed forever. All that time the flood came 
down; the thunder roared, and, now this way and 
now that, we could hear the crash of some falling 
tree. It was awful. 

The rain stopped as suddenly as it had come. 
The wind went down and we could see blue sky 


A Mountain Hike 225 

when we looked up through the trees. The crash of 
thunder died away to rumblings and mutterings 
from far down the valley of Deerfield river. 

We stood up, stretched ourselves and tried to 
wring some of the water out of our clothes. The 
first thing to do was to find the boys. Benny and 
I yelled for all we were worth and then listened but 
not a sound could we hear in answer. It was as if 
we were the first white folks who ever set foot on 
the mountain, as Benny had wanted to play. 

When we found that we couldn’t make them hear 
and couldn’t hear even Bill, I looked for a tree that 
I could climb, and shinned up until I could reach 
the branches; then climbed as high as I dared and 
looked for a smoke signal. I couldn’t get above all 
the other trees but was far above the underbrush 
and above some of the trees. Not a trace of smoke 
could I see in any direction. 

“ They are lost,” I said, on coming down to the 
ground. “ We’ll have to go on without them.” 

“ Guess what,” said Benny, trying to smile but 
looking a little scared. “ Maybe we are the ones 
that are lost.” 


226 A Mountain Hike 

“ We’d better send up a smoke signal; perhaps 
they will see it. A fire will help us to get dry, any- 
how. It’s lucky our matches are in bottles where 
they couldn’t get wet.” 

After a little search I found a hollow tree and, 
reaching in, pulled off pieces of rotted wood from 
the inside, which was as dry as tinder. We soon 
had a blaze started and after it was going in good 
shape we threw on dead branches which had been 
blown down by the wind. They were wet but the 
fire was hot enough to dry them until they caught. 

While the smoke made its way up through the 
trees, we hung our coats on sticks before the blaze 
and stood around in the heat to dry our clothes. 

It made us feel better to get warm and dry but 
not a sign of the other boys could we see or hear, 
although I climbed another tree to look and we 
nearly yelled our heads off. 

“ The thing for us to do,” I said, finally, “ is to 
get home as soon as we can, unless we want to 
stay all night on the mountain. The other boys 
will do the same. They are Scouts and able to take 
care of themselves.” 


A Mountain Hike 227 

By that time the sun had gone down back of the 
mountain. We knew that it must be shining on 
the valley where we lived but now we were in the 
shadow. 

“ We are explorers, all right, Benny,” I told him, 
after we had been walking an hour or more without 
getting anywhere, “ but you can search me if I 
know where we are going. I think we are some- 
where near the top of the mountain. It’s lightest 
over that way but I don’t know whether it is be- 
cause that way is west or because the woods are 
thinner in that direction. Look for moss on the 
north side of the tree trunks. Maybe we can tell 
by that.” 

We finally decided by the moss which way was 
north and then went to the left. It was a different 
direction from what we had been going. We 
tramped for another hour and seemed to be on top 
of the mountain. It was no longer so hard to 
climb but was up and down and in places almost 
level. There was no telling how far it was across 
to the west slope, or whether we’d get there if we 
tried. It didn’t look good to me. 


228 


A Mountain Hike 


“ Benny/' I said at last, after thinking it over, 
“ would you be afraid to stay alone with me all 
night on the mountain? ” 

He grabbed hold of my hand as if the thought 
kind of scared him. Then his face lighted up with 
a smile. 

“ Fve got a First Class Scout badge, haven’t I ? ” 
“ You bet you have,” I told him, “and you were 
out all alone the night we had our test hike but that 
wasn’t on top of a mountain with nobody within 
miles of us. It’s this way. We can see now but by 
the time we could get across the top of the mountain 
it would be dark. It wouldn’t be safe to climb down 
the mountain after dark, Benny.” 

“ I know it,” he said, still holding on to my hand. 
“ I’ve been thinking of that for some time.” 

“ Then what’s the answer? ” 

“ Find a good place to camp while we still can 
see.” 

“ Guessed it the first thing,” I told him, trying 
hard to be cheerful, but all the time I was thinking 
of what Mr. Norton had said about there being bears 
on the east mountain. 


A Mountain Hike 229 

“ Mother will be scared half to death when I don’t 
get home. Mr. Norton was going to tell her that I’d 
be along about supper time.” 

I know it. So will mine. That’s the worst 
part of it but we can’t help it. They wouldn’t want 
us to climb down after dark. We ought to have 
gone by the road; we’d be in North Adams now if 
we had. Anyhow, we’ll not have to go hungry. 
There is bacon enough left for supper, and more, 
too, and we can find some berries, unless the rain 
has beaten them all off. I guess the bread is pretty 
well soaked.” 

We couldn’t find a cave anywhere, so we picked 
out a spot that was sheltered by bushes. The ground 
was too wet to lie on but we knew how to get 
around that. We built a big fire, as we had done 
before; then we cooked and ate our supper. 

“ We’d better keep a fire going all night,” I de- 
cided, “ to scare away the bears and that will take a 
lot of wood.” 

Each of us had a Boy Scout hatchet and I had 
noticed a dead tree blown down a little way back. 
It didn’t take long to gather a big pile of brush 


A Mountain Hike 


230 

which would burn when thrown on a hot fire, even 
if it was wet. 

Finally, we raked the fire over to one side from 
where we had kindled it and swept the place clean 
of ashes with brooms made from branches of trees. 
As soon as the ground had cooled off a little we had 
a fine place to sleep, dry and warm, although there 
was no roof overhead. 

Benny and I lay and talked a long time, wonder- 
ing where the other boys were and whether our 
folks had begun to get scared. Whenever the fire 
died down one of us threw on some more brush. 
Overhead the stars were shining bright and we 
pointed out the Great Dipper to each other, follow- 
ing along the edge of the bowl with our eyes until 
we found the North star. 

When he saw that star, Benny grabbed his hatchet 
and cut a notch on the north side of a near-by tree. 

“ It may be cloudy to-morrow,” he said. “ We’ll 
know which way to start, anyhow.” 

The last I remembered, after throwing some more 
brush on the fire, was seeing Benny sound asleep 
with his coat for a pillow, and thinking that it would 


A Mountain Hike 231 

be up to me to keep watch. But I must have gone 
to sleep in spite of myself, being pretty tired, for 
along in the night, it seemed, I awoke with a start. 

The fire had partly died down but it blazed up 
again when I threw on some more brush. It wasn’t 
the dark that scared me. It was the noise of some 
animals crashing through the bushes toward us. 
Benny,” I whispered. “ Wake up. 


Bears ! ” 


CHAPTER XVII 


MIDNIGHT ALARMS 

I T is scary business to wake up on a mountain 
top and hear bears coming after you. Benny 
didn’t awaken soon enough to suit me but when I 
shook him he sat up startled, not knowing where 
he was at first. Then he heard it, nearer now, and 
still coming toward us. 

“ There are two of them,” he whispered, after 
listening a minute. “ Come on; let’s get out of 
this.” 

We circled around without making a sound, un- 
til we found a good tree to climb. I boosted Benny 
up among the branches and managed to climb up 
myself with his help. Then we waited. We could 
see our fire but the noise of the bears had stopped. 

For a minute we thought they had gone; then I 
saw them. They were stealing up toward the fire, 

keeping in the shadows all they could and careful 
232 


Midnight Alarms 233 

not to make any noise. I grabbed Benny by the 
arm and pointed, and we drew closer together on 
the branch, ready to climb higher if we had to. 

“ They'll get our bacon,” I whispered, “ and we 
won't have any breakfast but we are safe here.” 

He didn't say a word only sat there straddling a 
limb and staring out toward the fire, where we could 
see the two shadows stealing toward it. Finally, 
as one of the bears raised himself on his hind legs, 
Benny gave a little grunt of surprise and, before 
I could stop him, hung from the limb with his hands 
and then dropped to the ground, calling as he went, 

“ Skinny ! Skinny ! ” 

Would you believe it? The animals were not 
bears at all but Skinny and Dick Elmore. They had 
climbed a tree and seen our fire; then started for it, 
careful not to make any noise when they drew near, 
until they could find out who it was. When they 
found a fire burning and nobody around they didn’t 
know what to make of it. 

They hadn't seen the other boys at all since we 
started out after water, and were as glad to find us 
as we were to see them. 


234 Midnight Alarms 

“ And betcher life you are all right now,” said 
Skinny, when we were getting ready to go to sleep 
again. “ I’ve got my rope along.” 

We didn’t know anything more until sunshine 
from the east side of the mountain, slanting through 
the trees, woke us up in the morning. There were 
some red hot coals left among the ashes of our 
fire and Benny and I were getting ready to cook 
the rest of the bacon, when Skinny opened his 
eyes. 

“ Wait,” he called. “ We haven’t any water to 
drink and bacon will make us thirsty.” 

“ Anyhow, we’ve got to eat,” I told him, “ and 
bacon is all we have except birch bark. We can eat 
first and look for a drink afterward.” 

“ Dick and I found a dandy spring, didn’t we, 
Dick? Let’s wait until we get to it before we eat. 
It won’t take long.” 

“ Do you know where to look for it again ? ” 

“ Do we? Betcher life we do. We made a trail 
through the underbrush last night that you could 
follow in your sleep.” 

“Well, come on, then; and hurry. Benny and I 


Midnight Alarms 233 

are starving. Let’s take some of this dry wood 
along.” 

We followed the trail without much trouble and 
were surprised when, after a time, it led down 
the mountain on the west side. Benny and I had 
crossed the top without knowing it, the night 
before, and had camped not far from the west 
slope. 

“ Hurrah ! ” yelled Benny. “ We are all right 
now. All we have to do is to keep on going down 
hill until we come to the bottom and then we’ll be 
’most home.” 

“ Where is your old spring?” I asked, finally, 
after we had been walking what seemed a long time 
and were growing hungrier and thirstier every 
minute. 

Skinny stopped just then and held up one hand 
for us to keep quiet. He listened a minute, watch- 
ing for the enemy; then dropped to his hands and 
knees and crawled down through some bushes. A 
few minutes later we heard him cawing like a crow, 
and hurried to join him. 

We came out into a sort of clearing where Skinny 


236 Midnight Alarms 

stood pointing to a little pool of water which came 
from the rocks and then hurried off down the 
mountain. 

Benny and I didn’t stop to look at any spring. 
Far below, still in the shadow of East Mountain, 
although where we stood the sun was shining, lay 
the valley where we live. We could see Hoosic 
River, like a ribbon of silver, and the houses in our 
village and at the Gingham Ground. Across the 
valley beyond, holding his head high above us and 
seeming to laugh at us because we had been lost 
and scared, was old Greylock. 

After that you couldn’t have scared us with a 
gun. Nothing bothered any more — the rain, the 
bears, the night on the mountain top, or anything. 
We had wandered so far south that we had come to 
a point almost opposite Bob’s Hill. A fellow can’t 
get lost or scared, can he, when he can look down 
and see his own home ? 

We stood there yelling like Indians for several 
minutes; then lay down by the cool water, drank 
our fill, and washed our faces and hands. 

“ Now bring on your bacon, Pedro,” said Skinny, 


Midnight Alarms 237 

“ and hurry, or I’ll have to catch a bear for break- 
fasts 

It is great, eating breakfast on the mountain that 
way, by the side of a spring of cool water, almost 
in sight of the kitchen woodbox at home and know- 
ing that you don’t have to fill it, or anything. 

While we ate, Skinny and Dick told about finding 
the spring and the camp which Benny and I had 
made. When we all started to look for water the 
afternoon before, Skinny and Dick had gone straight 
up the mountain before circling off toward the 
south. After a while they heard a noise in some 
bushes and thought it was a bear, and maybe it 
was. 

“ Didn’t you have your rope along, Skinny?” 
Benny asked. 

“ You can’t lasso a bear, unless you can climb a 
tree above him and drop the lasso down around his 
neck, like I did that time on the mountain above 
Pun’kin Hook. There wasn’t any tree where that 
bear was, only bushes.” 

They were in such a hurry that they lost their 
divining rods and didn’t care which way they ran 


238 Midnight Alarms 

or whether they found any water or not. Then, 
after it seemed as if they had gone miles, the storm 
came. 

“ Gee-whillikins, that was some rain !” said 
Skinny, “ like it was when we came down the face 
of Greylock that time.” 

“ But it never touched us,” added Dick. “ We 
found a big, hollow tree and squeezed into 
that.” 

After the rain was over they tried to make the 
rest of us hear and sent up smoke signals just as 
we did but it didn’t do any good. 

“ You are a nice bunch of fellers,” said Skinny, 
“ to go and get yourselves lost. We couldn’t find 
you anywhere until night.” 

They wandered on until, finally, when it was 
growing dark, they began to go down hill and, pretty 
soon, found the spring and could see the lights of 
the village shining far below, where it was darker 
than on the mountain. Then they made up their 
minds to camp where they were, for they might have 
broken their legs or necks trying to climb down the 
mountainside after dark. They built a fire, just as 


Midnight Alarms 239 

we did, and, after the ground was dry, lay down 
and went to sleep. 

“How did you happen to find us last night?” 
I asked, “ if you went to sleep in your own 
camp ? ” 

Skinny didn’t like to tell how that happened but 
we kept asking him and finally he owned up that 
they had been scared by a big lot of bears coming 
toward them from down the mountain. 

“ And believe me ! ” he went on, “ there is a time 
to run and a time to be brave, and that was a time 
to run. We only had one lasso and it was too dark 
to do any lassoing, anyhow.” 

They ran up the mountain as fast as they could 
and then climbed a tree to wait and listen. From 
that tree they saw our fire away off through the 
woods, and after making sure the bears were not 
following, they made their way toward it. 

“ And it’s lucky for you that we found you when 
we did,” added Skinny, “ or you would have had 
to eat breakfast without any water to drink.” 

“ Where do you suppose Bill and the rest of the 
bunch are? ” I asked. 


240 Midnight Alarms 

“ Search me. They are lost somewhere on the 
mountain, probably/’ 

“ I’ll tell you what,” I said. “ Something may 
have happened to them. Bill may have sprained his 
ankle again.” 

“ Or they may have been chased up a tree by a 
bear,” put in Benny. 

“ Anyhow, we ought to hunt for them before 
going home, for fear they may be in trouble.” 

“ All right,” said Skinny, “ but first let’s hunt for 
berries. I haven’t had quite enough to eat and 
berries make good eating in the morning.” 

East Mountain is a great place for berries. 
We probably would have run across some pickers, 
even that early in the morning, if it hadn’t been 
for the rain. We soon found some berries, 
although the storm had beaten off the ripest 
ones. 

After we had filled up we scattered to look for a 
trail. With the sun shining and the trees throwing 
shadows toward the west, there wasn’t any danger 
of getting lost. Just the same, we kept within 
shouting distance of each other. I don’t know how 


Midnight Alarms 241 

long we had been hunting when we heard Benny 
yell, 

“ I’ve found ’em ! I’ve found ’em ! ” 

We hurried over to where he was standing. 
“ Where are they? ” we asked. 

“ I don’t know where they are,” said he, “ but I 
know which way they went.” 

He pointed to a big tree as he spoke. The bark 
had been smoothed off with a hatchet and some 
one had drawn an arrow with blue chalk on 
the place. There was a picture of a crow, to 
show that somebody from Raven patrol had 
been that way, only it didn’t look much like 
a crow. 

“ It's meant for a crow,” said Benny. “ It’s a 
bird, all right.” 

“It might be an eagle,” I told him. “Jim is 
with them and he is an Eagle.” 

“ It’s Bill,” decided Skinny. “ He had a piece of 
blue chalk with him. I saw it yesterday.” 

We could tell what had happened as well as if we 
had been there. After it had stopped raining and 
Bill had tried to make us hear and couldn’t, he did 


242 Midnight Alarms 

the next best thing — drew an arrow to show which 
way they had gone. 

“ Their tracks ought to be around here some- 
where,” I said, “ if they came this way since the 
rain.” 

After a little search we came to a clear place 
which was muddy, and there were their tracks plain. 

“ Four of them,” shouted Benny. “ They are all 
together.” 

Some distance beyond, Skinny, who was on ahead, 
called to us and pointed to two stones on the ground, 
a small one on top of a larger one. That is an 
Indian sign for “ this is the trail.” Later we found 
chalk marks on the tree trunks and once in a while, 
an arrow, and were able to follow fast. 

“ Good, old Bill,” said Skinny. “ He knew that 
we would try to rescue him; but what was the sense 
of their chasing around in a circle? If they had 
gone straight they would have come out on the west 
slope.” 

“ Here is where they camped,” shouted Dick, after 
a few minutes, “ or sent up a smoke signal.” 

“ Yes, this was their camp,” said Skinny, after 


Midnight Alarms 243 

looking around. “ I can almost smell the bacon 
frying. They are probably at home by this time. 
They could tell by the sun which way to go. You’ll 
see. They made a bee line for home after break- 
fast, and that is what we’d better be doing.” 

But instead of going west the trail broke up into 
several trails all going in different directions and 
circling around everywhere. We couldn’t under- 
stand it at first; then it came to me what they were 
doing. 

“ The boobs are looking for us,” I said. 

Skinny was disgusted. “ Looking for us ! ” he 
shouted. “We ain’t lost, are we? They are the 
ones that are lost. Betcher life you couldn’t lose 
me on East Mountain.” 

Just then we heard an awful screech but far 
away, back along the trail we had been following, 
and stopped, scared for a minute. 

“ It’s a wild cat,” whispered Benny. “ They make 
noises like that. They are on our track and there 
ain’t any use in climbing a tree when wild cats are 
after you.” 

Soon the sound came again, a little nearer — a 


244 Midnight Alarms 

terrible screech, like a dog fight, ending in a long 
wail. 

“ It’s Bill,” we shouted. 

It was as plain as day in a minute. We had been 
following their trail, trying to find them, and they 
had been following our trail, trying to find us, each 
party chasing around and around until at last we 
came near enough together to hear. 

“Caw! Caw-caw!” yelled Skinny. 

We all took up the cry, even Dick who belonged 
to Tiger patrol and ought to have growled. There 
was a big racket for a few minutes ; then we listened. 
From far down the trail came the answer, 

“ Caw ! Caw-caw ! ” Then another of Bill’s yells. 

Without a word we started on a run back toward 
the sound, cawing every few minutes and stopping 
to listen. 

We saw them at last through the trees, as they 
crossed a clearing, and in another five jninutes we 
stood facing each other and grinning. 

“ Great snakes ! ” said Bill. “ You fellows ought 
to wear a bell. You’ve led us a great chase. If 
you had to go and get lost why didn’t you wait 


Midnight Alarms 245 

where you were, like the book says, until we could 
find you ? ” 

“ Lost nothin’ ! ” Skinny told him. “ We’d be 
home eating dinner now if we hadn’t stopped to 
hunt for you. Where have you been, anyhow? 
You’d ought to have been with us last night; we 
came near surrounding a lot of bears.” 


CHAPTER XVIII 


TWO SMOKES ON EAST MOUNTAIN 

I T made us all feel better to be together once 
more, with the sun shining and birds singing 
in the trees. We had forgotten all about being 
scared in the night. Somehow things seem different 
in the night time and a fellow gets scared easily. 

After a good drink at the spring, we decided to 
go straight down the mountain toward home, stop- 
ping to eat berries on the way. We were hungry 
and had eaten everything in sight. 

“ My mother will be having a fit about this time,” 
said Benny, as we sat around the spring, looking 
down into the valley. “Just as soon as I have 
eaten some berries I am going to put for home as 
fast as my legs can carry me.” 

I had been thinking the same thing. Before we 
left the train, the day before, we asked Mr. Norton 

to be sure to tell our folks that we were on the way 
246 


Two Smokes on East Mountain 247 

and would get home in time for supper. We thought 
that if they knew we were coming they would cook 
up something good to eat and a lot of it. He told 
us that he might not be able to get word to Jim’s 
folks at the Gingham Ground but he would tell the 
others. Here it was dinner time the next day and 
we still were a long way from home. 

“I’ll bet they are hunting for us this very 
minute,” said Skinny. “ Folks always seem to 
think that a feller is in trouble when he doesn’t show 
up at meal time. Why, look at us! Nothing ever 
happened to us. We can take care of ourselves, I 
guess.” 

“ Something happened to Bill once,” Benny told 
him. “ Don’t you remember how he sprained his 
ankle on Greylock ? ” 

“Well, we found him, didn’t we? His ankle 
got well, didn’t it ? How about it, Bill ? Did your 
ankle get well ? ” 

For answer Bill found a level place and stood 
on his hands, waving his ankles around in the air. 

“ I wish I had our field glass here,” I said. “ I’ll 
bet I could see my mother standing at the front door 


248 Two Smokes on East Mountain 

down in Park Street, looking for her lost child. 
She almost could see me if she had the glass and 
would go up on Bob’s Hill.” 

“ Why not send up a smoke signal? ” asked Jim, 
— “two smokes, like the Apache Indians do to 
show that they are safe ? I 4 read it in a book,’ 
Skinny,” he added. “ The Boy Scout Manual says 
so, too.” 

" What’s the use? ” said Bill. “ Our folks don’t 
know how to read Scout signals or Injun signs, 
and the boys that do have gone away.” 

“ The Eagles haven’t gone and they know how. 
They haven’t had as much practice as the Ravens 
but they are pretty good at it, just the same.” 

“ The Eagles won’t be looking for signals. Mr. 
Norton wasn’t going to get word to Jim’s mother, 
so they won’t know anything about it.” 

“ Guess what,” put in Benny, when Bill said that. 
“ Mr. Norton knows all about signals and he is at 
home. He can read signs better than anybody. I’ll 
bet he is wondering where we are about this time.” 

We built two big fires, a little way apart, and 
when they were burning we threw on a lot of wet 


Two Smokes on East Mountain 249 

leaves. Two columns of smoke went straight up 
in the air and they meant that we were all right. 
One column of smoke ought to have been sent up 
first, meaning “ Attention,” but we didn’t have time 
for that. 

We didn’t wait for an answer but started down 
the mountainside, looking for berries and keeping 
close to a little stream which came from the spring, 
so that we could drink when thirsty. There wasn’t 
any danger of the fire spreading after such a storm. 

Of course we didn’t know what our folks were 
saying and doing until afterward but that part be- 
longs here and the boys told me to put it in, so 
I’ll do it just as if we had known about it all the 
time. 

Mr. Norton’s train from North Adams reached 
our village a little after noon. The depot is right 
back of Benny Wade’s house and only a little far- 
ther from ours, so it was easy for him to stop and 
tell our folks when to look for us. 

“ Is it safe for them to come over the mountain 
alone?” Mrs. Wade asked. 

“ Safe? Why not? The old stage road is still 


250 Two Smokes on East Mountain 

traveled more or less and it will lead them straight 
into North Adams. On top of the mountain is the 
little town of Florida, which they will have to pass 
through. On the east and west slopes there are 
several farmhouses. The boys have food and 
matches and at no time will they be far from water. 
They know how to take care of themselves, too ; at 
least, those do who have had Scout training. They 
couldn’t get lost, Mrs. Wade, if they tried, or, any- 
how, unless they tried pretty hard.” 

“ It would be terrible to have anything happen to 
Benny.” 

“ Nothing will happen, Mrs. Wade. I shouldn’t 
have said anything about it had I thought that you 
would worry and I shouldn’t have let them walk 
had I thought there was a particle of danger. You’d 
better cook an extra supply of food for supper. 
There will be a hungry boy along about the time you 
get ready to sit down.” 

Mrs. Wade always gets scared before anybody 
else does; she thinks a lot of Benny. My mother 
didn’t care. 

“ We’ll be glad to have the boys at home once 


Two Smokes on East Mountain 251 

more, said she. It has been a great experience 
for them. I wasn’t intending to bake until to- 
morrow, but if John is coming to-night his mother 
will have to get busy. He will bring a big appetite 
with him. Some of the others may stop here on 
the way and I must have some doughnuts ready for 
them.” 

“I think that you and your doughnuts have 
more influence over the boys than I have, Mrs. 
Smith.” 

“ Don’t you believe it. Your friendship and 
training are the best things that ever happened to 
those boys. They have been a help to me, too. I 
used to worry whenever John was out of my sight 
for fear that something would happen to him but I 
have learned, as he says, that a boy doesn’t want to 
get hurt any more than his people want him to, and 
that, ordinarily, he can take care of himself pretty 
well. Still, I sometimes think that a Divine Provi- 
dence must watch over boys especially, or they never 
would live to grow up.” 

Mr. Norton went home to dinner and after send- 
ing word to Skinny’s house and asking Mrs. Miller 


252 Two Smokes on East Mountain 
to tell the others, he went about his work and for- 
got all about us. 

He didn't think of us again until about five 
o'clock when the big rain came, and he didn’t worry 
then because he felt sure that we were hiking into 
North Adams about that time, or, anyhow, that 
we'd have seen the storm coming soon enough to 
get to a farmhouse or some other shelter. 

Being tired, he went to bed early that night and 
was sound asleep when a great banging on the door 
woke him up. It was my father and some of the 
other fathers, and what they said scared him. 

“Mr. Norton,” they called, “not one of those 
boys has come home.” 

Our Scoutmaster slipped on some of his clothes 
and opened the door. “ Not home ! ” he exclaimed. 
“ I don't see how it is possible.” 

“ It is not only possible but too true,” father told 
him. “What do you suppose could have delayed 
them ? ” 

“It might have been the rain. You probably 
noticed that the storm was heavier over toward 
Florida mountain. Perhaps they fooled around too 


Two Smokes on East Mountain 253 

long on the other side of the range before starting; 
then stopped at Florida during the storm. In that 
case they couldn’t get home much before ten o’clock. 
What time is it now ? ” 

“ About nine thirty.” 

“ Have you heard from all of the homes ? ” 

“ All except Donavan’s at the Gingham Ground.” 

“ They probably will come in pretty soon but in 
the meantime I’ll go down to the Gingham Ground 
and find out if anybody there has heard from Jim. 
The boys may have stopped there to play on the 
way back, although that is not very probable.” 

“ I’ll go with you,” said father. “ I have my 
horse here.” 

About that time, or soon after, Benny and I, 
scared half out of our wits, were shinning up a 
tree to get away from bears, on top of East Moun- 
tain, so we couldn’t very well have been at the 
Gingham Ground. 

After finding out that we hadn’t been there, they 
drove back home and waited until midnight. Then, 
when we hadn’t shown up, everybody was frantic. 

“I can’t understand it. I can’t understand it,” 


254 Two Smokes on East Mountain 

Mr. Norton kept saying. “ There couldn’t anything 
have happened to them on the road. If anything 
had happened, it would not have happened to all 
of them at once. The others would have brought 
word. The only explanation that I can think of 
is that somebody induced them to stay all night in 
Florida. The rain must have been almost a cloud- 
burst there and a flood of water would have poured 
down the mountain road. It would have been very 
unwise to start down the mountain from Florida, 
knowing that they wouldn’t be able to get to North 
Adams before dark.” 

That sounded so reasonable that Mr. Norton al- 
most believed it himself. 

“ It will begin to grow light in a little more than 
three hours,” said father, finally. “ I propose to 
start for Florida the minute I can see the road and 
I’d like to have you go with me, Mr. Norton, if you 
will.” 

“ I shall go, of course. I know just how anxious 
you feel. I can’t help being anxious myself but, 
depend upon it, those boys are all right. Boys are 
thoughtless often. They do not stop to think of 


Two Smokes on East Mountain 255 

the anxiety they are causing their parents, and these 
boys are no better in that respect than others, but 
there is not a streak of yellow in one of them. 
They never got into a difficulty yet that they were 
not able to work out of. 

“ You remember how it was when young Wilson 
sprained his ankle on Greylock mountain, where 
nobody even knew that he had thought of going. 
That was a test of courage and resourcefulness. 
There was reason for anxiety then but the boys 
solved the problem themselves when we elders were 
helpless. 

“ Think back over your own life, Mr. Smith. 
Suppose that you had started to walk over Florida 
Mountain, with several other boys, when you were 
their age. Wouldn’t you have been able to take 
care of yourself all right? And if for some reason 
you had not been able to reach home that night, 
would it have been such a terrible thing, so far as 
you were concerned ? ” 

“ I did it once,” chuckled father, sort of smiling 
to himself when he remembered it. “ I’ll tell you 
what’s a fact. If I thought my boy was doing half 


256 Two Smokes on East Mountain 

the reckless things I did at his age, I should be 
crazy most of the time. Do you suppose they could 
have had any trouble with a bear ? ” 

Mr. Norton laughed. “ Which do you think 
would be the most badly frightened should they 
meet one, the bear or the boys ? ” 

Just the same, they worried themselves almost 
sick over us and as soon as it began to grow light 
they hitched up the horse and started. 

After they had begun to climb the mountain they 
stopped at every house to inquire. Nobody had 
seen eight Boy Scouts going down the road, making 
a lot of noise. 

“ There hasn’t a person been down this road since 
the rain,” said Mr. Norton, after they had stopped 
at the last house. “ It is easy to see that without 
asking. Eight boys would have left a lot of tracks. 
It is as I told you; they stopped all night in Florida.” 

At last they drove into Florida, half expecting 
they would meet us on the way. When they found 
that we had not been there at all and that nobody 
had seen or heard anything of us, they didn’t know 
what to make of it or what to do. 


Two Smokes on East Mountain 257 

“ It is certain that they didn’t come up the road,” 
Mr. Norton declared, after they had eaten some 
breakfast and were planning what to do next. 
“ Eight strange boys could not pass through Florida 
without every man, woman, child, and dog knowing 
about it. If they came at all, they came some other 
way. But what way and where are they now ? ” 

“ Just where did you leave them?” 

“ They got off the train at Hoosac Tunnel station 
which, as you know, is a short walk from the mouth 
of the tunnel, on the east side of the mountain. 
Come to think about it, they had been planning to 
climb up above the tunnel to visit a waterfall which 
is there, and eat their dinner. Do you suppose 
they could have started over the mountain from 
there instead of taking the road ? If they did, they 
would have been exposed to the full force of the 
storm, unless they found some woodchopper’s hut, 
or other shelter.” 

“ Mr. Smith,” he went on, excitedly, “ if those 
boys did that and then lost their way, or were de- 
tained from any cause until nearly dark, they would 
not have tried to get home last night. It would not 


258 Two Smokes on East Mountain 

have been safe to climb down the mountain after 
dark, especially when there had been such a storm. 
They would have built a fire and made themselves 
as comfortable as possible where they were. That 
is what you or I would have done. It is what I 
have taught them to do. ,, 

“ In that case,” said father, “ unless we hurry 
back they will get home before we do.” 

“We may overtake them. If they climbed 
straight over they would come down off the moun- 
tain near the west portal of the tunnel, about five 
miles from home.” 

About noon they reached our house again but they 
hadn’t overtaken us and they hadn’t seen any signs 
of us, although they kept a sharp lookout. 

“ We’ll get a search party together and comb the 
whole mountain,” said father, finally, looking pale 
and sick he was so worried. “ Don’t say anything 
to the women folks about it but there is only one 
way to account for the absence of all of them. It 
was a terrible storm; they must have been struck 
by lightning and either stunned, or killed.” 

Just as he said that, mother came tearing through 


Two Smokes on East Mountain 259 

the room like a house afire, knocking chairs right 
and left in her hurry. She grabbed the field glass 
and was gone again before anyone had time to ask 
questions. A moment later they heard her calling 
excitedly from upstairs, 

“Father! Mr. Norton! Come quick !” 

They were on the way before she called, to find 
out what had happened. Now they took the stairs 
two steps at a time. She was standing at one of the 
east windows, looking through the field glass to- 
ward East Mountain, and her cheeks were as red 
as Skinny’s. Father ran to her but Mr. Norton 
reached the other window in two jumps and with- 
out a glass saw what she was looking at. 

“ A smoke signal ! ” he shouted. “ Two smokes ! 
They are safe ! It is an Indian sign which I taught 
them.” 

When he turned to take the field glass they 
handed to him, there were tears in his eyes, which 
makes us think that he was more worried than he 
let on. Mother was laughing and crying at the same 
time. 

“ Please send the news to Mrs. Wade,” he said. 


260 Two Smokes on East Mountain 

“ The poor woman is nearly crazed with anxiety. 
I’d better wait here at the window for a while. 
The boys may be sending a message.” 

But that was all they saw, two columns of smoke. 
It meant everything to them, however, for they felt 
sure it must be a signal from us, and it was not a 
signal of distress. 


CHAPTER XIX 


SKINNY MEETS A BEAR 

W HILE those things were happening, told 
about in the last chapter, we boys were 
on the way down the mountain. After starting the 
smoke signal, we left the fires burning and went on 
without waiting. Of course, we fixed the fires so 
that they would not spread, although there wasn’t 
much danger of that after the rain. 

We took our time climbing down through the 
woods and clearings, for we were not hungry, hav- 
ing filled up on berries, and we knew exactly where 
we were. We didn’t know just where we’d come 
out of the woods into the valley, but we knew that 
we’d come out somewhere. Every time we came 
to a clearing we could see the village down below; 
Greylock over across, and the woods where our 
cave is, with Peck’s Falls always roaring down the 

cliff. There was no chance to get lost. It was 
261 


262 Skinny Meets a Bear 

great, playing Indian on the mountainside, or ex- 
plorers, discovering a new country. Skinny with 
his rope had more fun than anybody. Every time 
we came to a stump he would yell “ Injuns ” or 
“ buffalo ” and lasso it, while the rest of us lined 
up with sticks for guns and charged. Finally, when 
we were halfway down we heard him yell, 

“ Big Injun hungry ! Lasso bear for supper ! ” 

“ Do you see one, Skinny ? ” we called. 

“ No, but I wish I did. I’ll tell you what, fellers, 
we’ve got to lasso a bear and take him home. The 
folks will be surprised some when we show up, lead- 
ing a bear. They’ll forget to scold us maybe.” 

“ How are we going to find any ? ” I asked. “ We 
haven’t seen one yet.” 

“We make too much noise; that’s the reason. 
Bill is enough to scare all the game on the moun- 
tain.” 

“ I don’t make any more noise than you do,” said 
Bill. 

Any noise at all, is too much when you are 
hunting bears. I’ll tell you what let’s do. Let’s 
scatter and make a still hunt The first one who 


Skinny Meets a Bear 263 

hears anything that sounds like a bear must give 
one caw like a crow. Only one, remember; we 
don’t want to scare him; and, fellers, make it sound 
like a crow, only not too loud or we’ll lose him. 
When the rest of us hear the signal we’ll creep up 
and surround him and I’ll get busy with my lasso.” 

This lassoing-a-bear business didn’t sound good 
to me. ‘ We couldn’t hold him, after he was 
lassoed,” I said. “ Bears are strong and sometimes 
they are fierce.” 

“ Don’t be afraid, Pedro. It will be easy. Just 
wind your rope around a tree and you’ve got him. 
That s the way I did that time I lassoed a bear 
before.” 

“ I ain’t afraid any more than you are,” I told 
him. “ If there are any bears around here I’m the 
one that’s going to find them but you can do the 
lassoing part.” 

We crept through the bushes in different direc- 
tions but always down hill and with hardly a sound. 
Benny stood up once and waved to me, so that I’d 
know that he was keeping close. It made me feel 
better because, no matter what you say, bears are 


264 Skinny Meets a Bear 

bears, and I shouldn’t like to meet one, all alone in 
the woods. 

This not being afraid, it seems to me, is mostly 
bluff, anyhow. It is not letting being afraid make 
any difference that counts. Now, there is Skinny, 
our patrol leader. I never saw anybody get more 
scared. But it doesn’t make any difference how 
frightened he is, he grits his teeth and goes ahead, 
if that is the right thing to do, until he gets mad; 
then he’s a whirlwind. 

After we had been creeping through the under- 
brush quite a while, Benny and I came to a berry 
patch and stopped to eat some more berries. We 
were just wondering where the other boys were 
when Benny gave a start and grabbed me by one 
arm. 

“ Sh-h-h ! I think there’s a bear over in those 
bushes,” he whispered. 

I listened; then looked around to see where there 
was a tree that we could climb, if we should want 
to real badly. As soon as I had found one I mo- 
tioned for Benny to follow and we crawled toward 
the sound. 


Skinny Meets a Bear 265 

“We must be sure,” I breathed into his ear. 
“We mustn't make any mistake or they will laugh 
at us. Keep on the windward side and don’t make 
any noise.” 

He nodded and, inch by inch, we crept closer, 
without snapping a stick more than two or three 
times. Whatever it was, we didn’t hear it again 
and we couldn’t find any bear, although we could 
tell that something had been there, when we finally 
dared go into the thicket. 

The other boys didn’t have any better luck, and 
after a little we gave it up and started down the 
mountain again. By this time several other tiny 
streams had been flowing into our brook and it be- 
gan to be pretty good sized and to rush and roar 
over the rocks in great shape. We didn’t know for 
sure but we thought it might be Tophet brook, 
which flows down and forms the Basin where we 
go swimming. 

Finally, we came to a place where the water 
formed a pool before pouring over a rocky ledge. 
When he saw the pool, Bill gave a whoop and held 
up two fingers, which meant swimming. The pool 


266 Skinny Meets a Bear 

wasn't large enough to swim in but the water came 
up above our knees; it was cool and wet and we 
were hot and kind of tired. 

It didn’t take long for us to get out of our 
clothes and into the water. We splashed and 
fooled around for I don’t know how long, part of 
the time in the pool and part of the time lying 
around in the shade and plastering mud over our- 
selves. 

“ Let’s go in once more, fellers,” said Skinny, 
“ and wash the mud off. We’ll have to be starting 
for home pretty soon.” 

He splashed into the water; then we heard him 
give a terrible yell as he came bounding out. 

“ Run ! ” he shouted. 

It wasn’t much to say but it was enough, and he 
didn’t have any more time. 

I gave one look as we scrambled to our feet and 
started. What I saw was enough for me and I 
passed Skinny in two seconds, although he was 
doing his best. 

A big bear stood on the other side of the pool, 
sniffing at our clothes and at Skinny’s rope. It 


Skinny Meets a Bear 267 

seemed to surprise him to see a boy without any- 
thing on. He couldn’t make out what kind of ani- 
mal it was. 

If anybody ever asks you to run a race on a 
mountainside, with bare feet and nothing on except 
mud, don’t you do it. Sticks and stones on the 
ground cut our feet; bushes and low hanging 
branches tore our skin until it bled, as we passed, 
but we didn’t notice that a first. We had some- 
thing more important to think about. 

Pretty soon I found what I had been looking for 
— a tree that I could climb. Shouting to the other 
boys, I jumped for the nearest branch and, digging 
my knees into the bark, pulled myself up into the 
crotch. Then I noticed blood running down my 
legs through the mud, where the skin had been torn 
off by the bark. I was safe, anyhow. In less than 
half a minute the other boys were either in my tree 
or some other. 

We waited a long time, listening, but couldn’t 
hear anything that sounded like a bear. 

“ He ain’t a-follering,” called Skinny, at last. 
tl We scared him, I guess. Let’s go back after our 


268 Skinny Meets a Bear 

clothes. It’s a good thing for him that I couldn’t 
get at my rope.” 

Then we crept back, keeping close together and 
stopping every minute to watch and listen. When 
we had come to where we knew the pool was, back 
of some bushes, Jim spoke up. 

“ Maybe Bill had better holler,” said he. “ If the 
bear is there it will scare him. Bill’s holler would 
scare anything.” 

“ Let’s all yell,” Bill told us, but we could see 
that what Jim said made him feel proud. 

We made a terrible racket and after waiting a 
moment crept forward until we could peer around 
the bushes and see the pool. The bear had gone 
and our clothes lay there where we had thrown 
them down. 

After we had washed off the mud and dressed 
we felt better and it didn’t seem so scary. Bill 
grabbed a club and jumped into the air with 
a screech, cracking his heels together as he came 
down. 

“ Show him to me,” he yelled. “ Where is the 
critter?” 


Skinny Meets a Bear 269 

Skinny grabbed his rope and swung it around his 
head. 

“ If he hadn't stood where I couldn't get at my 
lasso," he complained, “ I could have done some- 
thing. But what’s the use when you haven’t got 
any clothes on, or your rope, or anything? The 
thing to do now is to track him. We’ll follow him 
to the ends of the earth. No measly bear is going 
to chase Gory Gabe and his Band and get away 
with it." 

“ That’s the stuff," cried Bill, and we all 
cheered. 

Away we went, crashing through the underbrush 
and trying to find signs of the bear. Two or three 
times we thought we saw his footprints in some 
soft place but we couldn’t track him. 

“ Hark ! ’’ said Skinny, all of a sudden. “ What’s 
that?" 

“ Caw ! Caw-caw ! ’’ came floating over the 
mountainside. 

It wasn’t a real crow; we could tell that. Some- 
one must be calling to us. Pretty soon it came 
again. 


2jo Skinny Meets a Bear 

“ Caw ! ” yelled Bill, as loud as he could. “ Caw- 
caw ! ” 

We listened and then the answer came, faint and 
far off, but it was an answer; we felt sure of that. 
Cawing as we went, we hurried toward the sound, 
wondering who was doing it. 

After a while, the answer came from the other 
side of some bushes. In another second a man 
crashed through them and stood staring at us, first 
at one and then another, as if he was trying to 
make sure we all were there. 

It was Mr. Norton, and it seemed good to see 
him. We ran to him with a shout, asking him where 
he came from and how he happened to find us. 

“ Happened to find you ! ” he exclaimed, and 
there seemed to be nicks in his voice. “ We’ve been 
looking for you since last night. This way now 
and hurry up about it.” 

He turned and strode off through the bushes so 
fast we hardly could keep up with him. After a 
little we came to a road and, farther on, to a horse 
and wagon hitched to a tree. 

“ In with you,” he said, and without waiting to 


Skinny Meets a Bear 271 

see whether we were in or not, started the horse 
down the mountain road, while we sat looking 
at one another and waiting for him to say some- 
thing. 

“ Skinny,” he asked, at last, “ what is the first 
Scout law ? ” 

“ A Scout is trustworthy,” said Skinny, hanging 
his head. 

“ How about it, Jim? Is that right? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ What do you say, William ? ” 

“ That is the way you taught it to us,” said Bill. 
“ ‘ A Scout is trustworthy/ There is a lot more to 
it in some of the books but that is what it means.” 

“ It must be true if you all say so. How comes 
it, then, that you fellows have failed in your trust? 
Tell me that. 

“ If a Scout is trustworthy and you have shown 
yourselves untrustworthy,” he went on, when no- 
body had anything to say, “ it follows that you are 
no longer Scouts, doesn’t it ? And not being Scouts, 
what right have you to wear that uniform? I want 
you to take those uniforms off as soon as you get 


272 Skinny Meets a Bear 

home and keep them off until I can bring the matter 
before the Board.” 

We didn’t know what to think. Mr. Norton 
never had talked to us that way before and it scared 
us. 

“ I’d like to hear what you have to say for your- 
selves.” 

" We ought to have come by the road,” Skinny 
told him. “ Then it wouldn’t have happened, but 
we’d have been all right, anyhow, if it hadn’t been 
for the storm, and we couldn’t help that. We 
couldn’t climb down the mountain after dark. You 
told us once never to do that but to build a fire and 
go into camp. That is what we did.” 

“ You did exactly right there. I am not finding 
any fault with that. Neither am I finding fault be- 
cause you did not come home by the Florida road. 
It was a mistake but it was a mistake in judgment 
and we all make such mistakes sometimes. But here 
is what counts : Since then we have had twelve hours 
of daylight and you are not home yet. Your people 
have been frightened almost out of their senses. 
You should have started down the mountain as 


soon 


Skinny Meets a Bear 273 

as you could see this morning. Didn’t you 
realize that your folks would be half crazy with 
anxiety ? ” 

“It isn’t quite as bad as that, Mr. Norton,” 
I told him, when he seemed to be expecting me to 
say something, being scribe, “although it is bad 
enough. You see, we got separated and lost while 
looking for water and couldn’t find each other 
again. Then the storm came and we scattered still 
farther, trying to find shelter. After the storm, 
Benny and I, who were together, built a fire and 
went into camp for the night. We had no idea 
where we were, or which way to go. Skinny and 
Dick found our camp afterward in the night but 
we didn’t find the others until almost noon- to-day. 
It didn’t seem right to leave them on the mountain, 
not knowing but that somebody had been struck by 
lightning, or was sick or something. We looked for 
them a long time and all that time they were look- 
ing for us. When we finally found each other it 
was almost noon. That was when we sent up the 
smoke signal. Did you see it ? ” 

“ Yes, fortunately your mother discovered it. 


274 Skinny Meets a Bear 

We thought it was you but couldn’t be certain. Why 
didn’t you hurry home after that?” 

“ We were hungry and stopped to eat berries on 
the way. Then we went in swimming in a brook 
and a bear scared us. We couldn’t go home be- 
cause he was standing on our clothes. Besides, we 
were up a tree. We got our clothes as soon as we 
dared and then chased the bear. That is what we 
were doing when we heard you call.” 

‘‘You were up a tree, were you?” said he, and 
I thought I could see a twinkle in his eyes. “ Evi- 
dently that was the proper place to be under the 
circumstances.” 

He drove a little way without speaking. “ Now, 
look here, fellows,” said he, when we had come to 
a good piece of road. “ It isn’t as bad as I thought 
at first and I’ll take that back about the uniforms 
but let me tell you what has happened at home while 
you have been fooling around up here. 

“ Benny Wade’s mother is sick in bed and under 
the care of a physician, because of worry. The 
mothers of you other boys are nearly as badly off 
and the fathers, not much better. This has been a 


Skinny Meets a Bear 275 

terrible strain on them. Not one of us got any 
sleep last night. Mr. Smith and I started for 
Florida, on top of the mountain, at four o’clock 
this morning. I have given up all to-day to looking 
for you boys and trying to cheer up your folks, and 
I could ill afford to spend the time. We all have 
worried ourselves nearly sick about you. 

“ Pedro, what do you think of a boy who would 
make his mother— and such a mother! — suffer as 
you have done ? ” 

“ I think he ought to be put out of the patrol,” 
I told him. It was an awful thing to say but I 
meant every word of it. 

“ There is another phase of it,” he went on. 
“ You have * put me in bad ’ with your folks. They 
trusted their boys to me and I trusted you, for ‘ a 
Scout is trustworthy.’ You went back on me. But 
what I want to impress upon you most of all is 
that after this you should give some thought to your 
folks. They love you. It would almost kill them 
should anything serious happen to you. It would 
destroy their happiness. 

“ Fellows, listen ! You hold their happiness in 


276 Skinny Meets a Bear 

your hands. Guard it as you would your life. 
That is your trust; and remember the law, ‘ a Scout 
is trustworthy/ ” 

But our folks didn’t scold us. Mine didn’t, any- 
how. They were too glad to see me. 


CHAPTER XX 


“ devil’s hopper.” 

I T is queer how soon one gets used to things. 

We had been clear to Boston, camping out 
near the ocean, and we’d had all kinds of trouble 
climbing over the mountain, but in two days it 
seemed as if we hadn’t been away. 

Of course, we had to go to the cave the first 
thing, and take a look at Peck’s Falls; and we had 
to go swimming at the Basin. After that every- 
thing seemed as it always had been except that some 
of the boys hadn’t come home yet. They were 
away with their folks, visiting or something. 

One after another, they came back, until the 
Ravens were all together once more and ready for 
anything, although vacation was going too fast to 
suit us. 

Nothing happened for a long time after that. I 
mean nothing big except — but Skinny says to put 
that in later. 


377 


278 


Devil’s Hopper” 


“ I want you Ravens to teach the boys of Tiger 
Patrol all you can about scouting before school 
begins,” Mr. Norton had told us. “ I’ll go with you 
as often as I can spare the time.” 

We went out two or three times a week, showing 
them how to fix up a camp and cook out of doors; 
how to follow a trail; how to signal with smoke and 
flags; how to rescue folks who are drowning and 
bring them back to life; how to fix them up when 
they get hurt, and all the other things that Boy 
Scouts have to learn before they can be Boy Scouts. 
They had learned some of it down at the seashore 
but it takes a lot of time to learn it all. 

Sometimes the Eagles went with us and we ex- 
plored the mountains in every direction. It was 
great fun and we grew to like the Summer Street 
Gang even better than we like the Gingham Ground 
Gang except Jim. They were not half bad when 
we came to know them better. I’ve noticed that it 
’most always is that way. 

The best trip of all was a long hike which the 
three patrols took with Mr. Norton, our Scout- 


master. 


“ I can’t stand it any longer,” he said to Skinny 
one day. “I have worked hard and steadily for 
two weeks, with the mountains calling me all the 
time. Now I am ready to break away for a day. 
What do you say to taking the Tigers out for a hike 
and putting them through some of the Scout 
stunts ? ” 

That sounded good to Skinny. “Where’ll we 
go ? ” he asked. 

“ It doesn’t matter to me. Suppose that you get 
the boys together and decide. These hills are glo- 
rious in every direction. Eagle Patrol might like 
to go along. We can have a sort of field day to- 
gether; take along enough food for dinner and 
supper, and wind up with a campfire somewhere, 
coming home by moonlight. There will be a full 
moon next Saturday and that will be the best day 
for me to get off.” 

That is why, a little later when I was on the way 
to the postoffice, I saw our Sign chalked up on the 
bridge and another on the walk in front of the post- 
office, calling a meeting at the cave at four o’clock 
that afternoon. 


280 “ Devil’s Hopper ” 

A little after three, the boys began to gather at 
our barn, where we hold our meetings in the winter. 
They came one at a time, sort of loafing down the 
street as if they were not going anywhere in 
particular. On reaching our gate, they would 
stop there a minute, lean up against one of the 
posts and look up and down the street to see if 
anyone was watching. Then those of us who 
were in the barn would hear a “ caw ” from out 
in front. 

“ Caw, caw,” we’d answer, and in a moment more 
the boys would come running in. In this way all 
had come except Skinny and Bill. We couldn’t 
understand what was keeping them and watched 
for them from the barn windows, those which look 
out toward Park Street, although there was no tell- 
ing which way Skinny would come. 

After a while we heard a great cawing in Black- 
inton’s orchard, on the hillside beyond our garden, 
and ran out to see what it all was about. There 
came Skinny and Bill, each with a club, whacking 
away at the enemy. Suddenly, they made a rush 
and jumped down over the wall into our garden; 


“ Devil’s Hopper ” 


281 

then, fighting all the way, backed down a garden 
path to the barn, darted in and were safe. 

“ Are we all here, Pedro?” asked Skinny, as 
soon as he could speak. Then, when I told him that 
we were, “ Come on. Let’s go to the cave. It’s 
’most four o’clock.” 

Just as he said that and before we had time to 
get started, we heard a call, 

“ Caw ! Caw-caw ! ” 

Skinny looked at me, then counted the boys. 
There were eight of us. 

“ Maybe it is Tom,” I said. 

" No; Tom is going to be busy all day. He told 
me so.” 

“ Then who can it be ? ” 

1 11 tell you who it is,” shouted Skinny, getting 
mad. “ It’s one of those Tigers using our signal, 
and they haven’t any business to use it. ’Tain’t our 
fault that they don’t know how to growl like a tiger. 
Come on, fellers; we’ll put a head on him, whoever 
it is.” 

“ Caw ! Caw-caw ! ” came the call again, 
rushed out of the barn. 


as we 


282 “ Devil’s Hopper ” 

There wasn’t a Tiger in sight anywhere but there, 
on the back stoop, stood my mother, cawing to 
beat the band. It surprised us. 

“ I thought that would fetch you,” she laughed. 

“ I’m in great trouble and need to be rescued. I 
have just fried a batch of doughnuts and must have 
made a mistake for there are more than we can eat. 
Do you boys know anybody who would be willing 
to help us out? ” 

“ O, John,” she added, when she saw us starting, 
" how would it do for each of you to bring an arm- 
ful of wood when you come? The box is entirely 
empty.” 

It was after four when we climbed down the 
ravine at Peck’s Falls and crawled through the 
opening into the cave. Skinny never likes to have 
us late but this time he was as much to blame as 
any of us. 

“ We couldn’t help being late,” he said. “ Scout 
law says for us to do an act of kindness every day 
and when Pedro’s mother asks us to help her out 
on doughnuts, we’ve got to do it, meetin’ or no 
meetin’.” 


“ Devil’s Hopper ” 


283 

“ And I want somebody to make a motion,” he 
went on, “ to have her elected an hon’ry member 
of Raven Patrol; then she can caw whenever she 
wants to.” 

“ I’ll make a motion,” said Wally. 

“ Guess what,” Benny told us. “ How can a lady 
be a Boy Scout ? ” 

“We took Teacher into the Band, didn’t we?” 
said Bill. “ What’s the difference ? ” 

“ Those in favor of making her an hon’ry mem- 
ber of Raven Patrol,” shouted Skinny, “ so that 
she can caw whenever she makes too many dough- 
nuts, say aye.” 

“ Pedro’s mother is now a member,” he told us, 
after the noise had died away, “ and — listen, fellers! 
— it’s up to you to keep her woodbox full when 
you are around.” 

That having been settled, we talked over the 
hike and decided to go up on Greylock the very 
next Saturday. We hadn’t been to the top of the 
mountain since Bill sprained his ankle up there. 
Then we saw the Eagles and Tigers and reported 
to Mr. Norton. 


284 “ Devil’s Hopper ” 

“ Fine ! ” said he. “ That suits me exactly. I 
haven’t been on Greylock this year. Tell the boys 
to meet at Pedro’s at half past seven Saturday morn- 
ing, with rations for all day. We shall want to 
get an early start so that we can have time to 
practise our Scout stunts as we go along.” 

Mr. Norton thinks it is better, in going to the 
cave or Greylock, to go around the road by Maple 
Street and the Quaker Meeting House, or else go 
up the railroad track and through Plunkett’s woods. 
He says that sometimes folks don’t like to have a 
lot of boys trooping through their yard. But we 
don’t see why, as long as we are careful not to 
scare the cow. 

You see, we ’most always go the Blackinton way 
because it is easiest and shortest. My folks 
wouldn’t care a bit if we went through our yard 
but there is a high wall at the end of the garden, 
which keeps us from climbing up, although some- 
times we jump down. 

Then there’s Phillips’s on the other side. A steep 
path goes up through Phillips’s orchard, down which 
we sometimes slide in winter, taking care not to 


“ Devil’s Hopper ” 


285 

hit a big tree at the bottom. There isn't any cow 
but a fence shuts off the hill beyond the orchard 
and there are a lot of grapevines in the way of 
climbing over. 

Blackinton’s driveway, leading to a path through 
the orchard, is just right because there is a gate in 
the fence beyond. That is what a gate is for, to go 
through, unless it is more fun to jump over. 

When Saturday came at last, we didn't care what 
way we went, as long as we went some way. While 
we were eating breakfast at our house we heard 
some yelling out in the street and the sound of a 
drum. I hustled out to the front steps to see what 
was going on. The Eagles were marching up Park 
Street, with a flag and drum and all in their Scout 
uniforms. They waved their hats and cheered 
when they saw me and Benny, who had run out 
of his house at about the same time. I was just 
going to meet them when my mother called. 

“John Alexander," said she, “do you want to 
go up on Greylock to-day? If you do, come back 
here and finish your breakfast." 

When she says “John Alexander," like that, it 


286 “ Devil’s Hopper ” 

means business. But it didn’t take long to finish. 

I was most through, anyhow, and ten or twelve 
more pancakes with maple syrup on them slipped 
down fast. 

The Eagles marched into the back yard but pretty 
soon ran out into the street again, for there was 
some more cheering. The Tigers were crossing the 
bridge toward our house, wearing for the first time 
the new uniforms Mr. Norton got for them and 
looking so proud and happy we hardly knew them. 
The Ravens straggled in just as it happened. Pretty 
soon all were there and the yard was full of Scouts. 

Then Mr. Norton, our Scoutmaster, came. 
Mother saw him first and set up a great cheering 
and waving of her apron. For a few minutes after 
that our yard was the noisiest place in town, with 
cawing of crows, shrieking of eagles and growling 
of tigers. 

“Has everybody had enough to eat?” asked 
mother, trying to make herself heard. “ I’ve got 
some batter left. You mustn’t go away hungry.” 

“Has everybody a water bottle?” shouted Mr. 
Norton. 


“ Devil’s Hopper ” 287 

“ What time shall we expect you back ? ” called 
father. 

“ Has Skinny got his rope along ?” I yelled. 

Nobody answered any of the questions and no- 
body seemed to expect an answer. The flag and 
drum were left on the back stoop; then we marched 
out of the yard and turned north in Park Street. 
We were on our way. 

We marched in line, each patrol keeping by itself, 
until we had gone around by the west road and 
turned into the road which leads up the mountain 
past Peck’s Falls. After that we marched as we 
pleased. It is hard enough to climb a steep 
mountain without keeping step when you are 
doing it. 

First we stopped to see Peck’s Falls. The Ravens 
had seen the falls so many times we didn’t care 
much about stopping but the others hadn’t and Mr. 
Norton said that he didn’t have a chance to go up 
there very often. But when Skinny saw me and 
Benny looking down toward the cave, he put his 
fingers to his lips and shook his head. 

“ We mustn’t show them the cave,” he whispered. 


288 “ Devil’s Hopper ” 

“ Peck’s Falls are Peck’s Falls but our cave is some- 
thing else. Mum’s the word.” 

Soon we passed the last farm and the road began 
to grow poorer and poorer, being used only by 
woodchoppers, until after a little there wasn’t any 
road at all and not very much of a path. Then there 
was no such thing as keeping step or anything else 
except hard work. We dug our shoes in and strug- 
gled upward, stopping to rest often and to look 
up and down the valley, which seemed to grow 
larger every time we looked. 

When at last we came to the spring we stopped, 
for we knew that there was no water beyond, on 
the east side of the mountain, or on top. 

“ There is no hurry,” Mr. Norton told us. “ We 
can practise our Scout stunts here just as well as 
on top of the mountain and after a time we can 
cook and eat our dinner. I think we’d all rather 
eat here where there is plenty of cool water.” 

Dinner time came early, for we were hungry. 
Some of us brought wood for a fire; others went 
after berries. Mr. Norton and Skinny showed the 
Tigers how to build a fire without much kindling 


“ Devil’s Hopper ” 289 

and by using only one match; how to make coffee 
and fry bacon and bake potatoes in the ashes. 

There never was a better dinner than that, with 
all Hoosic valley at our feet, and over to the north 
of us, the Bellows Pipe and the Notch, the green 
of the high shut-in valley stretching as far as we 
could see, with cows feeding there. 

Scouts do not feel much like climbing after they 
have filled up on good things like we cooked 
or had brought with us; so we lay around talking 
and planning other trips. But Mr. Norton sat by 
himself a long time, without saying a word, just 
looking down at our village, up and down the val- 
ley, and at Hoosac mountain range opposite. 

Then he called us around him and talked about 
Greylock. He told us that men who have made a 
study of such things say that the top of Greylock 
was the original level of our part of the state and 
that the valleys have been carved out by what is 
called erosion, which means, he said, worn away 
by glaciers and by running water. 

“ How did the mountain come to be called Grey- 
lock ?” asked Harry. 


290 “ Devil’s Hopper ” 

“ Didn’t you ever see a cloud resting on the 
summit of the mountain, with wisps of clouds trail- 
ing out behind like gray hair? Probably something 
like that suggested the name to one of the early 
settlers.” 

“ That must have been a long time ago.” 

“ Yes, white men have been here since long before 
the Revolutionary War. North Adams and Adams, 
as I have told you, were named for Samuel Adams, 
the Boston patriot, not long after the surrender of 
Burgoyne at Saratoga. When was that ? ” 

We couldn’t tell him. 

“ I am not certain myself but think it was in 
October, 1778. The old Quaker Meeting House was 
built back in 1786; so, you see, it is almost as old 
as the Nation, which, after all, is not very old com- 
pared with Greylock and Bob’s Hill.” 

He said a lot more which I cannot remember; 
then, all of a sudden, exclaimed, 

“ By the way, I have something in my pocket 
which may interest you.” 

He pulled out a map and spread it on the ground, 
while we gathered around to look. 


“ Devil’s Hopper ” 291 

“ This is what is called a * topographic map ’ 
of the Greylock district. It was prepared as 
a part of a geological survey by the Govern- 

ment for the purpose of making a topographic 
atlas of the United States. To anybody ac- 
customed to read such maps, it presents an 

accurate picture of our entire valley and the 

surrounding mountains. See, there in the 

center is our river, spelled ‘ Hoosic,’ while 
the tunnel and east mountain range are spelled 
‘ Hoosac.’ ” 

“ I see the Raven Rocks,” shouted Jim, pointing 
on the map to a place opposite Renfrew, where the 
Gingham Grounds are. 

“ If you look closely you will see most of the 
places with which you are familiar — Greylock; the 
Bellows Pipe; the Notch; Tophet brook, where the 
Basin is; Peck’s brook, where Peck’s Falls are, and 
many others.” 

“ What are all those funny lines for ? ” one of the 
Tigers asked. 

“Wait!” called Skinny, as Mr. Norton was 
about to answer. “ Pedro, you put what Mr. Nor- 


292 “ Devil’s Hopper ” 

ton says in the minutes of the meetin’. Boy Scouts 
have to know about such things.” 

“ Put in the map, too,” ordered Bill. 

“ I am not good enough on the draw,” I told 
them. 

“ You can trace it through thin paper,” said Mr. 
Norton, “ leaving out, if necessary, some of the con- 
tour lines, for that is what those curving lines are 
called. Those lines can be read like print by those 
who know how. Look close and you will see some 
of the lines marked with figures. That small circle 
which indicates the top of Greylock is marked 3505. 
That is the height of the mountain peak in feet 
above sea level. Just west of Adams is a line 
marked 900, which means, I take it, that Bob’s 
Hill is almost 900 feet above sea level. About half- 
way between Adams and the 900 mark is a tiny 
circle, which, I think, indicates the summit of Bob’s 
Hill. 

“ Now, follow that 900 line with your eyes. Do 
you see it curve around? You can trace it all 
over the map nearly. At every portion of that line 
the elevation is the same, 900 feet above sea level. 



>NPA I 

LINE 


MASSAi 


URINES 


ifWiJfmk 


Natural/ 
Bridge / 

























































“ Devil’s Hopper ” 293 

This is true of every line shown. That is why they 
twist about so. Each line curves in various direc- 
tions, following its own level as the topography, 
that is, level, of the ground changes; and it changes 
very rapidly among these Berkshire Hills. 

“ These contour lines show the shapes of the hills, 
as well as their height. Where the contour lines 
are far apart on the map, they indicate a gentle 
slope; where they are close together they indicate 
a steep slope, and where they run together in one 
line they indicate a cliff. It would be a good idea 
for each patrol to have one or more of these maps 
to refer to. They can be obtained from the United 
States Geological Survey, at Washington, D. C., 
for ten cents each.” 

“ We don’t need any map to tell us that Grey- 
lock is steep,” said Skinny, “ Come on; let’s go up 
the rest of the way.” 

Then we started for the hardest climb of all, just 
before the top. 

It gives one a queer feeling to stand on top of 
Greylock, the very highest point in all Massachu- 
setts, and look far down at houses that seem like 


294 “ Devil’s Hopper ” 

toys. The Eagle Ground looked like a square in 
a checkerboard and our twin stones, like tiny 
thimbles. 

After a time we grew tired of looking and started 
in to have some fun. 

“ I wish you Tigers would remain with me,” 
Mr. Norton told them. “ I want to find out how 
much you have learned about scouting. You others 
may do what you please, as long as you do not get 
lost and that hardly is possible under the circum- 
stances. Show up again in about two hours.” 

“ I’ll tell you what let’s do,” said Skinny. “ The 
Ravens will be bandits and the Eagles can track us 
to our den. We’ll make a trail with pieces of paper 
and by breaking bushes but it won’t be easy to find 
us ; will it, fellers? ” 

“ All right,” laughed Mr. Norton. “ That suits 
me, only don’t go too far, and if you should need 
us for any reason, send up three smokes. Be careful 
of your fires; you mustn’t let them spread in the 
woods. I have a field glass with me and once every 
half hour your Scoutmaster is going to climb on 
that rock and look for trouble.” 


“ Devil’s Hopper ” 295 

“ Let us get a good start, Jim,” yelled Skinny, 
and the Ravens, cawing as they went, hurried 
down the west side of the mountain. 

It was great fun, winding and twisting through 
the woods and up and down ledges, leaving a trail 
that we knew the Eagles could follow if they were 
good at it. 

After a long time we came to what looked like the 
jumping-off place, where the slope of the mountain 
dropped suddenly into a deep hollow, with a wild- 
ness that almost scared us. 

“ It’s Devil’s Hopper,” said Bill. “ Don’t you 
remember? We saw it from the other side that 
time we were lost up here. They left out the 
‘ devil ’ part on the map.” 

It wasn’t easy going down into the Hopper, as the 
sides were steep and rough and thick with trees and 
bushes. We had to be careful not to fall, but we 
made our way down at last and stopped to look 
around. 

“ It’s a good place for bandits, all right,” said 
Harry, “ but where is their den ? ” 

“ It’s here somewhere,” Skinny told him. 


296 “ Devil’s Hopper ” 

“ There is bound to be a cave here somewhere. 
There couldn’t help being. It looks cavy.” 

We were so busy hunting for it that we forgot 
all about the Eagles and the trail. But there wasn’t 
a thing that looked like a cave anywhere in sight 
and we only happened to find it. Skinny and Bill 
were wrestling. Bill was climbing some rocks and 
Skinny had him by the legs pulling him back, when 
Bill caught hold of some bushes, bending them 
down. 

Skinny gave one look back of them and saw a 
great hole leading into the mountain, then started 
through the Hopper on a run. 

“ We’ve found it ! ” he yelled. “ We’ve found 


the bandits’ den ! ” 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE BANDITS’ DEN 

S OMEHOW it seemed different, finding a cave 
at Peck’s Falls, where there were houses not 
far away, from finding one at the bottom of the 
Hopper, the wildest place we ever had seen. After 
a few minutes Skinny came back and we crowded 
around to look at it. 

“ Guess what,” said Benny. “ It must be Devil’s 
Cave. It is called Devil’s Hopper, you know. Dast 
we go in? ” 

That is what we all were thinking. Benny and I 
grabbed Bill and tried to push him in but he jumped 
back in a hurry and broke away. 

“ Not much, you don’t,” said he. “ It ain’t that 
I am afraid but it’s up to Skinny to go in first. I 
am only assistant patrol leader.” 

“Huh!” exclaimed Skinny. “You’re scared; 

that is what’s the matter with you.” 

297 


2gS 


The Bandits’ Den 


“ Maybe I am and maybe I’m not,” Bill told him. 
“ It’s up to you, just the same. I’m not afraid of 
the cave, anyhow, but how about the bandits ? They 
are in there; I ’most know they are.” 

We all dodged back. It made us nervous to have 
Bill talk that way. 

“ Let’s light out of this,” said Hank. “ Even if 
they are not there, they may come back any minute 
and find us. Here they come now!” 

He hadn’t any more than got the words out of his 
mouth when we heard them. There were some 
terrible yells, a great crashing in the bushes back of 
us and somebody shouted, 

“ Now we’ve got ’em ! ” 

“ Run ! ” gasped Skinny, dodging behind a tree 
and out of sight. 

He needn’t have wasted any breath saying that 
for we all were running as hard as we could when 
he spoke. I guess maybe we’d be running still if 
we hadn’t heard somebody call, 

“ What’s the matter with you Ravens ? Come 
on back. It ain’t fair; we found you.” 

It was Jim’s voice. The noise hadn’t been made 


The Bandits’ Den 


299 

by bandits at all but by the Eagles who had tracked 
us to the bandits’ den. 

“ All right,” Skinny told them, pretending he 
had known who it was all the time. “ If you don’t 
want to play any more we’ll quit rumfing.” 

They were surprised when we showed them the 
cave. “ She’s a dandy,” said Jim. “ Have you 
been in ? ” 

“ Not very far. We were waiting for you.” 

Jim went to the hole and looked into the dark- 
ness inside. Then he picked up a stone and threw 
it in, while we all stood ready to run. We could 
hear it rattling around inside and could tell by the 
sound that the cave was a big one, a lot bigger than 
ours at home. Nothing happened, and nothing hap- 
pened after that when each of us threw in a stone. 

One of the boys made a little pile of leaves at 
the opening and set them on fire. The blaze drove 
away the dark for a minute and we could see that 
nobody was inside. 

“ Gee-whillikins ! ” shouted Skinny. “ It’s a 
bandits’ den, all right, and I’ll bet there are all kinds 
of treasure in it. Let’s you and me go in, Jim. The 


The Bandits’ Den 


300 

rest can watch and holler if they hear anybody 
coming. We’ll divide the treasure; the Ravens can 
have half and the Eagles, half.” 

“ The Ravens discovered the cave,” Jim told him, 
wanting to be fair. 

“ O, that’s all right. We’ll give you half, just 
the same. Won’t we, fellers?” 

“ How about the Tigers and Mr. Norton?” I 
asked. 

“ There will be enough for all of us. Come on, 
Jim.” 

Lighting matches as they went, they started in, 
side by side, while we waited on the outside and 
watched. When they had stayed inside so long that 
we began to be afraid something had happened to 
them, we heard a shout and a minute later they came 
out. 

“ Betcher life it’s a bandits’ den,” said Skinny. 
“ It ain’t safe to stay around here; they may come 
back any minute.” 

He held up a coin. “ We found that inside, and 
there are millions more like it. Yes, billions; may- 
be, sextillions.” 


The Bandits’ Den 


301 


“ Great snakes ! ” I heard Bill say. 

It made us all dizzy to think of so much money 
and ours, too, if we could get away with it but we 
were afraid to stay and we didn’t know what 
to do. 

“ I wish Mr. Norton was here/’ I said. “ He’d 
know what to do. Let’s go after him.” 

“ There ain’t time,” Skinny told me. “ The 
bandits may come back. They may be up at the 
top of the Hopper now, looking down at us. Say, 
I have it. Three smokes! We’ll signal, like Mr. 
Norton said. There ain’t anything the matter with 
us and we ain’t lost, but we want to see him, just 
the same.” 

We picked out a place where the trees were not 
so thick and built three fires a little way apart, piling 
on leaves until three columns of smoke went sailing 
up out of the Hopper. That is an Indian sign, 
meaning “ I’ve lost the camp.” Then we placed 
sentinels all around on every side. We felt sure 
that the bandits couldn’t come within a quarter of 
a mile without somebody hearing them and giving 
the alarm. 


302 The Bandits 1 Den 

Once after we had waited a long time I thought 
that I heard them coming; then a crow called from 
part way up the mountainside and we knew that it 
must be Mr. Norton. Benny answered and pretty 
soon our Scoutmaster and the Tigers came hurry- 
ing down toward us. 

“ What is the trouble, boys? ” asked Mr. Norton, 
anxiously, as soon as he could get his breath. He 
had come in a hurry not knowing what had hap- 
pened to us. 

We told him about the bandits and their den and 
Skinny took a handful of coins out of his pocket 
and jingled them. 

Mr. Norton gave a low whistle. “ Did you find 
those in the cave?” he asked. 

“ Yes, and there are plenty more where they 
came from. Millions and billions of dollars.” 

" You come with me, Skinny. I want to be 
shown. The others may as well keep a careful 
watch. I think we are the only persons who have 
been here in many years, but we’ll not take any 
chances.” 

In a few minutes he came out to the cave en- 


The Bandits’ Den 303 

trance and asked us all to go in, if we could get 
in, and to bring some dry leaves with us to use as 
torches. The light showed that we were in a big 
room-like place, which had been used by somebody 
to work in. On one side was an old furnace and 
there were some tools scattered about. In a comer 
was a tin boiler half full of coins like those Skinny 
had showed us. 

Mr. Norton pointed out that the tools were rusty 
and could not have been used in many years. 

“ What kind of tools are they?” I asked. 

“ Boys,” said he, “ a very interesting thing has 
happened to us. Unless I am very much mistaken, 
we are the first ones who have set foot in this place 
in more than a hundred years. I remember of hav- 
ing read somewhere, although until now it had en- 
tirely slipped from my mind, that many years ago 
a den of counterfeiters was discovered in the Hop- 
per. Their tools were taken to be used as evidence 
in case the men should be arrested. It couldn’t 
have been this cave for the tools are here and the 
place has not been disturbed. 

“ It seems probable that there were two caves, 


304 


The Bandits’ Den 


some distance apart, for greater safety, and dupli- 
cate sets of tools. These coins, I presume, are 
counterfeit money. We’ll take some home with us 
to make sure and then, if I am correct, we’ll turn 
the contents of the cave over to some historical so- 
ciety as interesting relics of crime. I’ll look up the 
book also and read to you all that is known about 
those old counterfeiters. ,, 

We were all excited at first over finding the 
money and were hoping that it would turn out to 
be real. Skinny was sure that Captain Kidd, an old 
pirate, had hidden his treasure there and that if we 
should dig we’d find a lot more. 

“ He hid all kinds of treasure somewhere,” he 
told us, “and it never has been found. I read it 
in a book.” 

However, Mr. Norton was right about it, al- 
though we didn’t find out until afterward. He took 
some of the coins to the bank and the banker told 
him that they were counterfeit. Later, he found 
the book that told about the counterfeiters. It is 
called, “Perry’s Origins in Williamstown,” for 
Skinny made me copy it down to put in the minutes 



Mr. Norton Gave a Low Whistle. ‘‘Did You Find 
Those in the Cave?” He Asked 





v< 


The Bandits’ Den 


305 

of the meeting, and this is what it says, as you will 
see for yourself, if you look it up : 

“ One may descend to the Hopper from Bald 
Mountain by the Bacon Brook which unites its 
water near the bottom of the vast gorge with 
‘ Money Brook/ so called. In one of the dismal 
gorges far up on the northern side of the Hopper, 
near Wilbur's pasture, remote and inaccessible, 
where the foot of man has but very seldom trod in 
any age, and will tread but seldom till the end of 
time, a small gang of counterfeiters not long after 
1800 had a concealed den beside this brook for their 
work of fraud. Tradition tells many a tale about 
these criminals which the prudent man will receive 
with caution, or not at all, but the main fact rests 
on firm historical grounds, and has properly given 
a euphonious name to the mountain brook. Mr. 
Kellogg of Troy, a native of the town and graduate 
of the college, in his old age repeatedly told the 
writer, and afterward put the statement in writing 
for better authentication, that when he was a boy 
there was an old tool chest in one of the chambers 
of his father’s house, which contained the tools and 
other apparatus of these counterfeiters which had 
been found in the Hopper and brought to his father 
as Justice of the Peace, to be used against the men 
should they be apprehended. The gang had aban- 
doned their work and tools and had escaped the 
officers, but one man was arrested on suspicion and 


The Bandits’ Den 


306 

brought before Judge Kellogg, but there was no 
legal evidence against him.” 

“ Now the question is, what shall we do next? ” 
said Mr. Norton, after we had looked at the cave 
all that we wanted to. “ We can, if you like, make 
our way over into Williamstown and go home from 
there by trolley. It would be too much of a hike 
after a hard day to walk home from there. Or we 
can climb to the top of the mountain again for 
supper, hold our campfire there and go home by 
moonlight, as we planned at first. I shouldn’t ap- 
prove of starting down the mountain after sundown 
except for the fact that the air is as clear as a bell 
and the full moon will come up before we need 
to start. It will be almost as light as day.” 

We all said that we’d rather have our campfire 
on Greylock and listen to one of his stories. That 
is what we did, making a big fire at first, so that our 
folks could see it and see us passing in front of it, 
if they should be looking and wondering where we 
were. 

Then, after a war dance, we threw ourselves down 
on the ground and waited for our Scoutmaster to 


The Bandits’ Den 


307 

begin the story. A cool breeze from the southwest 
fanned the flames and blew the heat away from us. 
The sun had gone down in a sea of gold, far beyond 
Hudson River. Slowly the huge shadows of Bob’s 
Hill, Greylock and the whole mountain range 
blotted out the village and climbed Hoosac range 
beyond. Tiny lights appeared in the gathering 
darkness, a few at first, then hundreds of them, all 
up and down Hoosic valley; overhead were the stars. 

Mr. Norton, as he often does, sat looking for a 
long time without saying a word, until finally we 
reminded him about the story. 

“ Can you feel it, boys ? ” he asked, suddenly. 
“The wonder of it all? The mystery of it all? 
The beauty of it all? I believe you will remember 
this night as long as you live and in later years, 
through the memory, the part which you may be 
missing now will come to you. You boys don’t have 
all there is in life. Don’t think it for a minute. 
Just as you live in a little world of your own and a 
beautiful world, into which it is hard for us older 
people to enter, so we grown-up boys see and feel 
much that is hidden from you. 


The Bandits’ Den 


3°8 

“ You ask for a story, and you have been living 
a story all day long. The creation of the world is 
a long and wonderful story and it is a continued 
story. I say ‘ is,’ not ‘ was,’ because the work of 
creation is still going on. When nature gets 
through, or seems to, man begins another chapter, 
building a Hoosac Tunnel here and something else 
there. 

“ These mountains and valleys were formed ages 
ago and nature clothed them with beautiful gar- 
ments of trees and grass for you and me to enjoy 
to-day. It seems a very long time since our valley 
was carved out, anil it has been a long time, but ever 
since then this day which we have enjoyed so much 
up here on the mountain, this very day, was on the 
way; just as to-morrow is on the way and almost 
here, and as every day that comes has been on the 
way from the beginning. And, boys, this day which 
has been so long coming will never come again.” 

He sat quiet for a moment, sort of dreaming; then 
went on, “ You are hoping that the coins which you 
found will turn out to be real money but, after all, 
these days that come and go, not money, are what 


The Bandits’ Den 


309 

we buy things with. What we have, what we are 
and what we become, depend on how we spend these 
days, what we buy with them. We can buy money 
— real money — with these days. We can spend 
them for knowledge, for health, for character; we 
can spend them for wickedness and rottenness gen- 
erally; but spend them for something we must. 

“ After ages and ages and ages, this day is here, 
and to-morrow soon will be here. What are you 
going to buy with to-morrow, Scouts? I think we 
have bought something worth while with to-day — 
the health which comes from outdoor life; the joy 
of companionship with clean fellows; inspiration 
from the rugged beauty of these mountains.” 

“ Look ! ” he continued, after a few moments, 
pointing across the valley. 

In the east had appeared a rim of gold which, 
while we looked, grew larger and larger until the 
full moon leaped into view. It flooded the moun- 
tains with a soft radiance which soon poured down 
into the valley, lighting our path. 

Through the moonlight our troop made its way 
homeward. 


CHAPTER XXII 


RAVENS TO THE RESCUE 

ACATION went fast after that and soon we 



began to count the days that were left. One 


morning Skinny and I were sitting on our front 
steps, talking about the bandits’ den and the coun- 
terfeit money, when we saw one of the Gingham 
Ground Gang — I mean Eagle Patrol — coming down 
the street and called him in. 

“ I can’t stop,” he told us. “ I’ve got to find a 
job somewhere and find it quick.” 

“ School will begin soon,” said Skinny. “ This is 
no time to be looking for a job.” 

“ It’s my father,” he explained, wiping his eyes 
when he thought we were not looking. “ He’s 
awful sick and can’t earn a cent. The doctor says 
that if he could be taken away to the seashore for 
a while he would get well but he might as well tell 
us to take him to the moon, unless I can earn a lot 
of money right away.” 


310 


Ravens to the Rescue 31 1 

“Gee,” said Skinny, “that’s tough. Say! If 
the money we found up in the Hopper hadn’t been 
counterfeit! ” 

“Have you told Mr. Norton?” I asked. 

“No; what’s the use of bothering him? He’s 
done a lot already and he has troubles of his own.” 

“ Just the same, he is a good one to see.” 

“Barney,” Skinny broke in, growing excited at 
something he had been thinking, “ never mind the 
job to-day. You hustle home and tell your father 
to get ready to go. The Band — I mean the Ravens 
— will see him through. I don’t know how but we’ll 
do it somehow. We’ll find a way. Don’t you see, 
Barney ? That is what we are for, to rescue folks, 
and we haven’t rescued anybody all summer. Scout 
law says for us to be helpful.” 

“ I know it does. That is why I am looking for 
a job.” 

“ Well, you hurry back and tell him what we are 
going to do. Maybe we can get Cap’n Jake to take 
him out in his dory when he gets down to the 
shore.” 

“ Pedro,” Skinny went on, after Barney had 


Ravens to the Rescue 


312 

started for home on a run to tell his folks, “ we’ve 
got to get busy on this. This is our chance. Here 
we have been spending money all summer, having 
fun at the seashore, and Barney’s father is dying 
because he hasn’t the price of a ticket. It ain’t 
fair.” 

“ I know it isn’t,” I told him, “ but what can we 
do? It would take more than the price of a ticket. 
Fifty dollars wouldn’t be any too much, and I 
haven’t fifty cents. I spent it all at the seashore.” 

“ We’re Scouts, ain’t we? We can ask Mr. 
Norton, can’t we? We’ll get him to tell us what to 
do; then we’ll do it.” 

“ Good work ! ” shouted our Scoutmaster, when 
we called him out on his steps that evening and told 
him about it. “ I know the very thing to do. In 
fact, I have been thinking about it some time, with 
the idea of raising a fund for next summer’s trip. 
This will be a better use of the money. We well 
people will stay at home if necessary. Come in 
and sit down while I tell you about it.” 

What he said was for us to give a show, not a 
circus or anything like that, but an entertainment at 


Ravens to the Rescue 313 

some church and charge twenty-five cents apiece for 
people to get in and see our Scout stunts. 

“ They wouldn’t pay money for that, would 
they?” I said. 

“ They are getting crazy about it,” he told us, 
“ and are asking me all kinds of questions. Your 
finding the counterfeiters’ den in the Hopper has 
set everybody to talking about the Scouts and people 
want to know more about the Scout movement in 
general. We can show them, and make some money 
for Barney at the same time. We shall be doing 
something for the Scouts, too, because more families 
will become interested in the movement. Maybe 
we shall be able to get another troop out of it. I 
think we can get the use of one of the churches free, 
or by paying for light and janitor service at the 
most. It will be good church work. There are 
twenty-four boys in my three patrols and each of 
you can sell ten tickets without any trouble at all. 
There are sixty dollars right off the bat.” 

“ Gee, you make my head ache,” said Skinny. 
“ It would be great but it would take too long. 
Barney’s father will be getting sicker all the time.” 


314 Ravens to the Rescue 

“ That is true; there should be no delay in his 
case. Of course, we might raise the money by 
solicitation but you Scouts ought to do this thing 
and not leave it for others. I’ll tell you how we can 
fix it. I know somebody who will advance what 
money we need at once and wait for his pay until 
after the entertainment. Hold a meeting of the 
Ravens to-morrow, then come up here and talk it 
over with me. If the fellows all will agree to take 
hold of the work, I’ll get busy.” 

When the Ravens met the next day and we told 
them Mr. Norton’s plan, everybody was for it, not 
only the Ravens but the Tigers and Eagles. 

“ That is fine,” Mr. Norton said, when we had 
reported. “ Now you fellows go ahead and work 
up a program that will be worth the price of ad- 
mission. We are not asking for donations. Get 
the other patrols to meet with you. I’ll appoint 
Skinny chairman of the entertainment committee. 
Pick out some good stunts that can be done on a 
platform, like tying knots, bandaging a broken leg, 
bringing life back to a drowning person, making fire 
by friction, and so on. 


Ravens to the Rescue 315 

“ Some Scouts gave an entertainment in New 
York a few nights ago and, among other things, 
exhibited the various flags which preceded and finally 
led up to Old Glory, as we know it and love it. A 
line of Scouts marched up on the platform carrying 
those old flags and each boy in turn told the story 
of the flag he was carrying. It was interesting. I 
can borrow the whole outfit from the New York 
Scoutmaster; I know I can. 

“ Then, people ought ‘to be made to realize what 
Boy Scouts stand for. Some of them do not know 
that this movement is making for manhood in its 
truest and best sense. Here we have twelve Scout 
laws ; to repeat them will not be enough. Act them 
out. Appoint a committee, Skinny, to work out a 
dozen little acts, or tableaux, which will explain 
what you boys understand these Scout laws to mean. 
It will be like acting charades. I’ll arrange for the 
church and the advertising and get the tickets 
printed and help in every way I can. Meanwhile, 
we’ll send Barney’s father down to the seashore at 
once, and send his mother along to take care of 
him.” 


3 16 Ravens to the Rescue 

“ Whew ! ” said Skinny, mopping his forehead 
with his handkerchief as we went out into the street. 
“ Ain’t he a regular Gee Whizz ? I’m ’most tired 
already.” 

“ O, boys,” called Mr. Norton. “ We’ve forgot- 
ten something. What in the world shall we do with 
Barney? He can’t stay at home alone.” 

“ I’ll ask my folks to let him come and visit me,” 
I told him. 

“ Fine! ” he shouted. “ Tell your mother, Pedro, 
not to feed Barney so many doughnuts that we’ll 
have to send him down to the shore to recuper- 
ate.” 

The next week was a busy one for Raven Patrol 
and for the whole troop. We couldn’t have done it 
without Mr. Norton’s help but he kept us going, 
until we had worked up a program that we knew 
would give the people their money’s worth. 

Then something happened which came near put- 
ting us Ravens out of business. 

We were all ready for the entertainment and had 
nothing to do but wait, when Skinny said that he 
was tired out practising and wanted us to go on a 


Ravens to the Rescue 317 

hike the next day, so that he could rest up for the 
show. 

“ But it comes off to-morrow night and four hun- 
dred tickets have been sold,” somebody said. “ That 
means a hundred dollars.” 

“ I know it but we are all ready. There is noth- 
ing more to do. We’ll come home feeling great.” 

“ Where’ll we go? ” 

“ Let’s go up to Natural Bridge above North 
Adams. We have been talking about going up there 
a long time. We can ride back.” 

That is what we decided to do. Pulpit Rock at 
Peck’s Falls is almost a natural bridge but up above 
North Adams is a regular natural bridge and we 
wanted to see it. It is on the way to Stamford and 
is a bridge of white marble' over Hudson brook, 
which runs at the bottom of a gorge, about sixty 
feet below. The gorge — maybe five hundred feet 
long— begins with a waterfall and there is a wild 
ravine beyond. 

We started on our hike early next morning in 
order to get home early, in case there should be 
something to do at the last minute, everyone in 


3 1 8 Ravens to the Rescue 

uniform. Benny marched ahead, holding up a big 
American flag. Hank went last, carrying a banner 
on which he had painted the Sign, calling a meeting 
at the church at eight o’clock and asking everybody 
to come out and see the Scout stunts of the Ravens 
and help along the “ caws.” A lot of folks read it, 
laughed and said they would be there. 

We marched through North Adams as big as life 
and crowds of people ran out to see us. It made us 
feel proud. Once a lady stopped us and wanted to 
know about the “ caws ” part. When we had told 
her about Barney’s father at the seashore, she said 
for us to give the show at her church and she would 
promise us twenty-five dollars, anyhow, and maybe 
more. 

We told her that we would and we did but that 
doesn’t belong in this history. 

“ Everybody caw ! ” shouted Skinny. 

She went away, laughing and holding her hands 
over her ears, because she had been standing close 
to Bill Wilson. 

The Ravens played around Natural Bridge until 
noon; then we ate our lunch and played some more. 


Ravens to the Rescue 319 

When we finally were ready to start for home, all 
of a sudden Bill yelled, 

“Follow the leader !” 

Away he ran, with the rest of us following after. 
Round and round we chased him, doing everything 
that he did, climbing rocks, jumping off, and all 
kinds of crazy stunts. Then, when I had stopped 
to get my breath, I saw him step out on a flume 
which crosses the gorge, high above the rocks. It 
was wet and slippery. Skinny was not far behind. 
He hesitated when he came to the flume; then 
started, wetting his lips with his tongue as he felt 
his way across. 

The rest of us watched and waited. Nobody 
likes to take a dare but what is the sense in getting 
killed for nothing. That’s what I say. 

Slowly the two boys made their way out over the 
gorge and might have crossed all right if Bill, who 
knew that Skinny was behind him, hadn’t begun to 
act smart. Suddenly as we watched, hardly daring 
to breathe, he slipped and, with a yell of fright, fell. 

I tried to shut my eyes, for I didn’t want to see 
it, but could not stop looking. Then, as he fell, I 


320 


Ravens to the Rescue 


saw Bill reach out his arms, grab the flume and hang 
there by his hands, with a look on his face which I 
never can forget. 

When Bill slipped and yelled, it scared Skinny 
and he began to sway and totter, until we thought 
that every second he would lose his balance and fall. 
Finally, he caught himself and was able to stand 
still, looking down into Bill’s eyes which were filled 
with horror and fear. 

“ Your rope!” we yelled; then waited, white to 
the lips. 

That was all we could do, just wait, and maybe 
see Skinny and Bill both dashed to death on the 
rocks below. 

Balancing himself on the flume, Skinny uncoiled 
his rope which he had been carrying around his 
shoulders, ready to start for home. Carefully he 
stooped down until he could get hold of the 
flume with his hands; then he straddled it and 
felt safe. 

“Hang on, Bill, I’ll save you,” we heard him 
say, as he worked himself along the flume with his 
hands. 


Ravens to the Rescue 321 

When he was almost over Bill he wrapped the 
rope around the flume, took tight hold of the short 
end and let the other drop. 

We groaned when we saw it, for the end didn’t 
reach anywhere near the bottom of the gorge where 
we stood, but it was all that could be done. 

With Skinny holding to his collar with one hand, 
Bill caught hold of the rope, first with one hand, 
then with both, and then coiled his feet around it 
and began to slide down, while Skinny pulled on 
the end to keep it from slipping. There wasn’t any 
time to tie knots. Bill couldn’t have hung on much 
longer. 

“ Drop ! ” we shouted, when Bill came to the end 
of the rope. “ We’ll catch you.” 

We did, enough to break his fall, although I 
thought he would knock the breath so far out of me 
when he struck that I’d never get it back again. 
While he lay there on the rocks, white and weak, 
and the others not much better off, Skinny, still 
straddling the flume, dropped his rope and hitched 
himself back with his hands a few inches at a time 
until he could catch hold of some rocks at the end 


322 Ravens to the Rescue 

and pull himself up. In a few minutes more he 
came down to where we were. 

“ Gee-whillikins, Bill ! ” said he. “ You ’most 
spoiled the show.” 

That was a great entertainment. Everybody was 
there and seemed glad to be there. Mr. Norton, 
looking fine in a new scoutmaster uniform, called 
off the different numbers on the program. He ex- 
plained what we were trying to do and what the 
Boy Scout movement stood for. The church was 
crowded and the people applauded like sixty. 

Just the same, we gave a sigh of relief when it 
was all over and the folks were getting up to go. 
But before they could leave my father rushed up 
on the platform and asked them to wait a minute. 
You could have knocked me down with a feather 
and I could see that Skinny and the other boys, and 
Mr. Norton, were as surprised as I was. 

u We have all enjoyed this entertainment,” he 
went on, as soon as it was quiet, u and we are glad 
to help in the good work which these boys have been 
doing; but a few of us who, perhaps, have been 
closer to the Scout movement than others, on ac- 


Ravens to the Rescue 323 

count of our boys being in it, wish to give a more 
substantial expression to something which is in our 
hearts to-night. We thoroughly believe in the aims 
and purposes of the Boy Scouts of America but, 
whatever its aims, this great organization would 
fall far short in its usefulness without the right 
kind of men for scoutmasters. 

“ Some of us who have watched Scoutmaster 
Norton here and who have seen our boys grow in 
manliness, helpfulness and strength of character 
under his guidance and training, and who realize 
how much of his own time and energy he has given 
up to the work, wish to thank him publicly, and we 
ask him to accept and wear this watch as a small 
token of our appreciation and esteem.” 

How the people clapped! Mr. Norton was real 
fussed and didn’t know what to say but Skinny, 
climbing on a chair, yelled to the Ravens, “ Every- 
body caw ! ” 

“ Caw ! Caw-caw ! ” roared through the church, 
while the crowd looked on in surprise. 

“ Eagles ! ” called Jim, “ Do your best. Now! ” 

“ Tigers ! Go to it ! ” shouted Dick, trying to 


324 Ravens to the Rescue 

make his voice heard above the racket. There never 
was so much noise in a church before. 

“ I certainly thank you all,” said Mr. Norton, 
finding his voice at last, “ but I could have done 
little without the good will and help of their parents. 
My heart is too full to say more. I only ask you to 
look at these boys and tell me if they are not worth 
all it has cost.” 

“ Pedro,” said Skinny on the way home, “ put 
it all in the minutes of the meetin’; and put in not 
to ever go out without a rope.” 


THE END. 









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“It would be hard to find anything better in the literature of New 
England boy life. Healthy, red-blooded, human boys, full of fun, 
into trouble and out again, but frank, honest, and clean.” — The Con- 
gregationalist. 


THE BOB’S HILL BRAVES 

Illustrated by H. S. DeLay. 12mo. $1.30 net. 

The “Bob’s Hill” band spend a vacation in Illinois, where 
they play at being Indians, hear thrilling tales of real Indians, 
and learn much frontier history. A history of especial inter- 
est to “Boy Scouts.” 

“Merry youngsters. Capital. Thrilling tales of the red men and 
explorers. These healthy red-blooded, New England boys.” — Phila- 
delphia Press. 

THE BOY SCOUTS OF BOB’S HILL 

Illustrated by Gordon Grant. 12mo. $1.30 net. 

The “Bob’s Hill” band organizes a Boy Scouts band and 
have many adventures. Mr. Burton brings in tales told around 
a camp-fire of La Salle, Joliet, the Louisiana Purchase, and 
the Northwestern Reservation. 

CAMP BOB’S HILL 

Illustrated by Gordon Grant. $1.30 net. 

A tale of Boy Scouts on their summer vacation. 


HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS NEW YORS 


By ALFRED BISHOP MASON 


TOM STRONG, WASHINGTON’S SCOUT 

Illustrated. $1.25 net. 

A story of adventure. The principal characters, a boy and 
a trapper, are in the Revolutionary army from the defeat at 
Brooklyn to the victory at Yorktown. 

“The most important events of the Revolution and much general his- 
torical information are woven into this interesting and very well con- 
structed story of Tom and a trapper, who serve their country bravely 
and well. Historical details are correctly given .” — American Library 
Association Booklet. 

TOM STRONG, BOY-CAPTAIN 

Illustrated. $125 net. 

Tom Strong and a sturdy old trapper take part in such 
stirring events following the Revolution as the Indian raid 
with Crawford and a flat-boat voyage from Pittsburgh to 
New Orleans, etc. 

TOM STRONG, JUNIOR 

Illustrated. $1.25 net. 

The story of the son of Tom Strong in the young United 
States. Tom sees the duel between Alexander Hamilton and 
Aaron Burr; is in Washington during the presidency of Jef- 
ferson; is on board of the “ Clermont” on its first trip, and 
serves in the United States Navy during the War of 1812. 

TOM STRONG, THIRD 

Illustrated. $1.30 net. 

Tom Strong, Junior’s son helps his father build the first rail- 
road in the United States and then goes with Kit Carson on 
the Lewis and Clarke Expedition. 


HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS NEW YORK 







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